


first day of this life

by KindnessGraceless



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindnessGraceless/pseuds/KindnessGraceless
Summary: It seemed as though, all at once, the trio became painfully aware of three things.One: Wherever they were was not where they were just five minutes prior. ItwasHades’ office. It was just...that it wasn’t.Two: Hades and Persephone, by all context clues, seemed to be married.And three: Not a single one of them knew what thehellwas going on.—A mishap on Hecate’s behalf offers some unforeseen consequences.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 136
Kudos: 479





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by "First Day of My Life" by the Bright Eyes.

Work was _hard._

Hecate thought herself a woman of responsibility before anything else, really. People depended on her for not only complete and diligent work, but for _excellence_. One could argue that it was that very virtue that led her to spend the last twenty-seven hours awake in a desperate bid to finish her portion in the _Shade Judgement Reform_ presentation she was co-leading with Hades and Persephone. Too tired to risk the danger of driving, Hecate teleported herself into the lobby of Tower One, a steaming white mocha in hand and dark bags around her eyes.

 _Hello’s_ were granted to her from the receptionists out of kindness that she could only return with a less than enthusiastic wave of her hand. The imp operator on the elevator was met with the same treatment, barely the hint of a smile on her lips as she mentally prepared herself. 

Exhaustion and a hint of dread coursed through her. Things had been _tense_ , and the ninety-nine floor trek ahead of her was going to be one of her last moments of solitude—she just knew it. Continuous hours with each other meant that she, Persephone, and Hades were coming to their wits end. At least, the closer they got to the end of the presentation, the closer she found herself to a very well earned nap and at _least_ forty-eight hours away from the two of them. 

With what seemed like a now ominous _ding,_ the elevator doors parted open, prompting her to tip the operator a few drachma as she stepped out. To be honest, Hecate cherished the last little bit of silence on her walk to the office. Her brain was already throbbing with stress and fatigue, so the gentle sounds of her sipping and heels clacking on marble were to be appreciated. 

There was no telling how long this barely conceived peace would last. But things were...quiet. Almost chillingly so. Hecate knew all too well though to trust her gut instinct more than anything else. Despite the calm, she had to fortify herself for a storm, whether it would happen or not. Given how tense all three of them had become, but _especially_ Hades and Persephone, it was practically inevitable. 

After sending an exhausted but kind smile to the ash nymph behind the receptionist’s desk (a much gentler replacement for Minthe), she found herself outside of Hades’ office. Hecate couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left her body when she couldn’t hear the sounds of a brewing argument from the other side of the door, an all too frequent pastime for those two here lately. 

Small victories. For now. 

Hecate allowed herself to finally open the door, peeking her head inside before entering fully. She found herself pleasantly surprised with the scene laid out before her, Hades standing in front of the presentation board seemingly adding last minute details as Persephone sat in one of the armchairs by the desk, focused on whatever she was typing on her tablet apparently.

Hecate had half a mind to leave now, go before she disrupted the peace but it was too late, Persephone looking up from her lap to beam at her.

“Oh! Good morning, Hecate,” Persephone had greeted happily, always so kind to her. Still, deep beneath the chipper exterior lay some form of tiredness. Restlessness. 

“Morning, Persephone.” Hecate sighed, finally fully entering the room, making her way across the room, taking a seat in the armchair across from Persephone. She looked to Hades then, giving him a curt nod. “Hades.” 

She had to accept the grunt she got in response as a proper greeting. He barely even pulled his focus from the presentation board where he was laying out their detailed plan for judgement reform, much too caught up in his work to pay her much mind. Well, he did have _one_ thing to say to her.

“Hecate, did you finish the slideshow last night?” Hades asked, his back still turned to the two women.

“Yes, it’s already in the drive with Persephone’s graphs attached,” she responded, taking another sip of her drink.

“Good.” A huff. “At least two of us respect the concept of a time crunch.” 

Hecate could see Persephone tense from her peripheral, and she gulped. It had barely been three minutes. _Sigh_. She prayed, no, _begged_ the Fates that Persephone would just let it go but–

“It’s okay, I’d just rather not rush _quality._ I’m sure _you_ understand that, Hecate,” Persephone reassured, batting her eyelashes a little _too_ politely.

“Well, of course, I just—” 

“That’d make sense if I wasn’t trying to refine so called ‘ _quality_ ’ work as we speak,” Hades mumbled under his breath, but there was no actual attempt to try and keep either of them from hearing. 

Any patience Hecate had was already thinly veiled over her, and her energy (at least what was left of it) was quickly depleting.

“Now, let’s not start–”

“Nothing is starting, Hecate, _His Majesty_ is just upset that the graphs, _the facts,_ don't line up with his current standards of judgement,” Persephone retorted, the pretense of talking to Hecate quickly waning.

“Really?” Hades finally turned to face them, ripping his glasses off their perch on his nose with an exasperation Hecate knew had been brewing for _weeks._ “Mortals spend their entire _lives_ fearing hospitality violations and you, _you_ want to go ‘Oh no! It’s fine! See your way to the Elysium Fields!’” 

Persephone let out an indignant scoff, and when Hecate looked her way, she could see a flash of hurt shock in her eyes. It _would have_ tugged at Hecate’s heartstrings, if she wasn’t already miserably sick of Hades, Persephone, and the two left footed tango of pent up sexual tension they’d forced her to watch for the last two weeks.

“You know that’s not what I meant at all, Hades.” Persephone _sounded_ wounded, the faintest pout on her lips. “The numbers show a disproportionate amount of shades being sent to Tartarus, especially in comparison to the Asphodel fields. To better these numbers, I am only suggesting maybe we should put less focus on whether or not some jerk let’s a stranger sleep at his house and more on the more extreme offenders. Like—Like murderers! Or thieves!” 

Hecate could butt in. Or she could not. 

Hades ran a hand through his unusually unkempt hair, a sigh leaving his lips. It was almost as if he felt bad for his little outburst. _Almost_. 

“I’m simply giving the mortals the punishments they _expect_ , Kore, I’m a God—a _King_ that they fear and I’ve got a standard to uphold,” Hades stated as he began to pace in front of the two of them. He was always like this when he got anxious.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Persephone said with the slightest hint of agitation to her voice, “it’d be nice to not be stuck in your ways for once and surprise us every once in a while.”

Hades only scoffed. “‘ _Stuck in my ways’_? I’m doing my _job,_ Miss Kore, and that job is to offer the fair and just judgment to mortals that is expected of an impartial king.” 

“Sorry for asking you to appeal to my _modern_ sensibilities, _Your Majesty._ ” Persephone seethed, pointedly looking at her tablet instead of him. 

“Quite bold of an _intern_ to try and advise a King on how to rule his own Kingdom,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Persephone finally stood up, putting her tablet down on the table beside her, prompting— “Then _why_ are you being less of a _King_ and more of _an—_ ” 

With a pointed finger, Hades cut her off, brow furrowed with frustration. His lips just about twitched into a wicked smirk. 

“I’d choose your next words very carefully, little goddess,” he said low and near terrifyingly, leaning in closer to Persephone, “because my patience wore thin about five minutes ago when you first copped your petulant little attitude.” 

Persephone nearly wavered. But with the red glimmer in her eye, Hecate decided then that it might be the best time to at least _try_ and interrupt before things escalated any further.

With a sigh, she stood up with a calm, “Now—”

A scoff came from Persephone as she squinted at him. “ _Petulant?”_

Key word: _try._

“I didn’t stutter.” The smirk he’d been fighting back became a little more apparent.

Hecate offered another feeble attempt, “Friends, could we please—”

“Then, please!” Persephone threw her hands in the air. “Don’t let me stop you from saying what’s on the rest of your mind, Hades.”

Hecate gulped. In all honesty, she hadn’t seen it this bad before. She probably should have asserted herself the second things became more heated than they should be, but now she actually feared it may be too late. Anxiety bubbled within her, and she tried once more, trying to step in between the two of them. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Fine, you want to know?” Hades started, only for Hecate to quickly approach him, her brow furrowed.

“Hades, _stop,_ ” she warned as she clutched her drink. It was futile however, for Hades was already too caught up in his own pride.

Hades paused for a second to collect his thoughts, a moment passing the most devious smile finally pulling up at the edges of his mouth, looking past Hecate. “You’re acting like a _child._ Your outlook on this entire thing is so _juvenile,_ thinking we should only worry about the murderers and thieves and _jerks_ , oh my. When _moral sins_ exist, Kore. The mortals don’t put so much weight in hospitality for no reason. They expect a certain punishment and I am more than happy to deliver.”

Tension filled the air quickly, and for the briefest moment, Hecate could have sworn she saw Persephone’s bottom lip begin to wobble. 

It was short-lived, for Persephone spat, “Screw you, Hades.”

“ _‘Screw you’?_ ” Hades said with a dry chuckle. “Oh, that’s _real_ mature of you, little godd—”

Hecate had all but given up on the two in her exhaustion until she was brought back to reality. Hades, flailing with offense as he spoke, punctuating his harsh words with his arms, sent them swinging out to their full wing span at the word _real_. Directly into Hecate’s hands where she was holding a very, _very_ hot cup of coffee. The ensuing events happened quickly in a blur.

The coffee cup flew back out of Hecate’s hand, losing it’s lid as it impacted against her chest, splattering all over herself and her manicured outfit in a rather dramatic fashion. Hecate _would_ have been burned by the scalding hot coffee that was now running down the front of her. But that was _if_ she hadn’t been wearing the one of a kind dark blue _, exclusive_ and _expensive_ jacket she had recently bought, only wearing it now because this morning it was easier to unbox than waste energy going to her closet to search for one. She hadn’t even washed it yet.

The silence that followed was lethal, only interrupted by the sound of coffee dripping onto the floor.

Both Persephone and Hades looked at her; Persephone gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, and guilt _immediately_ washed over Hades’ face. The most unfortunate time for either of them to acknowledge her presence was now. 

Hades choked on his words. “Hecate, I’m—” 

“Don’t.” Hecate’s voice trembled with burgeoning anger but still remained harsh, stern, inducing fear in the other two deities in the room. She tried to take a deep breath—they’d been doing so well at helping her compose herself all morning, but now? Maybe now was not the time to compose herself. Maybe _now_ was the time to be fed up. 

“Hecate—” Persephone tried this time, but to no avail as Hecate lifted a single finger to stop her in her tracks. 

“I have been awake. For twenty. Seven. _Hours,_ ” Hecate seethed. She dug her nails into her palm with such _rage_ , she was sure she was going to break skin. That is, if she could bring herself to care. “I _agreed_ to do the largest _damn_ portion of the presentation on the terms that you two would come to a consensus about your part. And what do I find this morning? You two, bickering _senselessly_ like absolute children about the most _menial_ part of the presentation, having absolutely no regard for anyone else but yourselves!”

Hecate was angry. 

She was _pissed_. It was over the ringing in her ears, the thrumming of her pulse, and ichor raging through her that she couldn’t hear the lights pop. Nor could she see the lights flicker and the walls shake over the own blinding light of her now shining sclera. She didn’t take the moment to register the way Hades and Persephone were cowering as her eyes glowed in pure anger. 

The air around her grew bone chillingly cold as a wind picked up from seemingly out of nowhere, whipping around her and the fighting pair with increasing speed. She couldn’t bring herself to care either, about how the other two were looking around with obvious fear in their eyes, equally unaware of what was happening—or _why._

Hecate didn’t care. Not even as the ground beneath them began to tremble just enough, a rumbling sound filling the room. 

“I am _tired_ ,” she hissed through her teeth. “Tired of whatever _utter bullshit_ the two of you have shoehorned me in between, the unadulterated _nonsense_ that you two capable adults can handle yourself! Pull yourselves _together_ . We all know this isn’t like _either of you_. Either sleep together or tell the other that you hate them, because _I. Am. Done._ ” 

She punctuated each word, succinct and so sharp that they almost hurt as they clawed out of her throat. Every single pent up emotion of the past couple of days expelled themselves forcefully from the back of her mind. Now that it was out, she could try and grasp onto reality again. But it wasn’t until then did she finally realize the state that they were in—the way Hades had instinctively pulled Persephone closer to keep her safe in the whirlwind surrounding them. Hecate couldn’t stop herself as the light from her grew, burning from the inside out, until it seemed to consume herself. All the energy she had to spare charged through every vein of her body, purging itself with such force that she was shaken as it left her, it rippling outwards through the room.

It wasn’t until then did Hecate realize she was no longer on the ground. 

When the realization dawned on her, she fell to the floor, her landing less than graceful. The second her feet met the black marble, the room went dark—pitch black and silent. 

A squeak came from what she could only assume was Persephone. Hecate had even begun to scare herself. Her breathing was heavy, her heart absolutely racing in her chest as her hands trembled at her side. 

She was going to open her mouth when—

The lights flickered back on. The wind was gone. The ground was no longer quaking.

Upon first glance, the three of them were still in Hades’ office. After all three blinked collectively, Hecate watched as Persephone’s face reddened with the realization that Hades still held her tight, prompting the spring goddess to push herself away from him with a little too much desperation. After shaking off the fluster from the embrace, Hecate watched as Persephone cautiously approached her, genuine worry etched on her face.

“Hecate…. Are you okay? Do you need to lay down?” she asked carefully just as Hecate’s knees buckled ever so slightly. 

“Kore, keep your distance,” Hades warned. “You don’t know if Hecate has completely calmed down yet, she could blow up ag—”

Immediately, Persephone looked back at him with a huff. “You’re not my keeper, Hades! I’m trying to help my _friend_.”

As if they hadn’t learned their lesson, the heat between them resparked and the throbbing headache Hecate forgot she had returned with a vengeance. There were too many things happening at once; she was overwhelmed, nauseated by the overwhelming stench of coffee, and dizzy. She was starting to think maybe she should leave them be, return to her office, and open her bottle of Emergency Scotch. Nine AM be damned. _The presentation_ be damned. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to look between Hades and Persephone, but—

“She’s my friend too!” Hades groaned, glaring at Persephone. “But, I’m telling you from experience, Hecate is more powerful than you kn—”

“Hades, she’s _exhausted._ She probably needs to lay down on the couch or go to the infirmary!” 

As the two began to squabble again, Hecate could pay them no mind for she was much more focused on something else. Neither of the deities saw her mouth fall agape, eyes widening with what could only be described as complete and utter _awe_. Hades and Persephone, however, were much too occupied with the brewing argument at hand to notice.

“She’s _exhausted_ because of you. _Us_. She’s clearly fed up with both—”

“Hades—” Hecate’s throat felt raw. But she _needed_ their attention. 

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t clearly need help!”

“Persephone—” _Please._

“Suddenly you know everything, hm?”

“ _Listen to me!”_ Hecate erupted. 

The final burst of energy Hecate had left to spare left her body in her last attempt to get Hades and Persephone to pay an inkling of attention to her. By the grace of all Gods, it worked. They looked at her, a sympathy in their eyes that made her want to roll her own. She couldn’t muster the will to do so. Only because her eyes were trained, _zeroed in on_ , something behind them. When they finally realized, they turned around themselves. 

Neither Hades or Persephone could stop the unanimous _gasp_ that left both of their lips, Hecate hearing them both. They had good reason to, she supposed. For when they turned around, they came face to face with Hades’ desk. What was usually kept so neat, almost close to bare was a much more cluttered mess than it had been moments ago. The surface was covered with an array of mugs and picture frames, a stark contrast to the lone computer, phone, and various stacks of paperwork they were all used to. Though, that’s not what Hecate was looking at.

Oh no, not at all.

Looming over the three of them was an eight foot portrait on the wall where nothing used to be. It dominated the room, _demanding_ to be seen, and the intricate carving of the black frame only added to it’s ostentatiousness. However, there was one element that was the most jarring. Hecate could feel the little bit of coffee she’d managed to consume stirring in her gut. The _subjects_ of the painting were the unexpected part. 

Above them all stood Hades—he was standing broad and tall as he towered over them in full ceremonial garb. His black crown shone at the top of his head, his chest covered in medals and a sash, not unlike his visage in other royal paintings. It was an unmistakable note that he looked less tired, and that he was... _smiling_ , ever so slightly. 

But even Hades wasn’t the most unsettling part of this portrait, no. The _only_ thing different was that _Persephone_ was there. Not the Persephone, the _Kore_ , standing with them in that office. The Persephone in the portrait assumed more of an overpowering aura than ever before. Her eyes looked down on them like she _knew_ she was powerful. Like she knew she was... _a Queen_. The Persephone in the portrait adorned her own shimmering, black crown.

And a wedding gown. 

It seemed as though, all at once, the trio became painfully aware of three things. 

One: Wherever they were was not where they were just five minutes prior. It _was_ Hades’ office. More cluttered, a bit warmer, and not as dark as usual, but it was _his_. It was just...that it wasn’t.

Two: Hades and Persephone, by all context clues, seemed to be _married._

And three: Not a single one of them knew what the _hell_ was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Julia <3

When Hades and Persephone woke up this morning, maybe they should’ve accounted for their fighting, or even causing Hecate to be flung into a mystic rage over spilt coffee, but they sure didn’t know to account for seeing _that._

That gigantic wedding portrait stood in front of them, so obviously a source of _pride_ by just the aura it emitted. It was safe to say that all three deities lost their breath for a few brief moments, all eyes ogling as they tried to gather their wits about them once more. 

It’s not that Hades or Persephone never... _imagined_ a scenario such as this one, but both of them felt as if they’d been plucking away at their own dreams for the past two weeks. All of the passive aggression, the snide comments, were all because they didn’t see eye to eye on their project. At first the idea of working so closely together seemed like absolute bliss. But that changed quickly and early on at the first disagreement. Both of them had spent too many nights tossing and turning over every little thing said and done, wondering _was that it?_ Was it all just a crush that was given a little too much heart, a little too much meaning? 

This portrait, this huge glaring contradiction, said otherwise. 

Still—they were all left with a troubling predicament. How did they end up here, and why? Where _was_ _here_? Yes, it was Hades’ office but it was just so…different. Before they could explore any further however, they had to sit Hecate down _somewhere_ before the poor woman collapsed completely.

Hades was quick to usher Hecate over to the couch in the office. That was different too, in a different place, no longer the dark blue leather he was used to, but a grey one that was plush and soft to the touch. Hecate obviously didn’t care for the difference as she collapsed into the cushions, immediately sinking into the couch’s embrace. The guilt that Hades felt was undeniable, finally seeing the pure _exhaustion_ on his old friend’s face, making him wonder once again why she even put up with him at all. 

“Hecate, I’m sorry, we—we’ll figure this out, okay?” he tried to reassure her despite the uncertainty in his voice. Hecate sighed, closing her eyes for the first time in a day and a night.

“Just don’t fuck anything up while I’m asleep, ‘kay?” she muttered, as she finally allowed herself to nod off, her face the most peaceful Hades had seen it in weeks.

Persephone, on the other hand, after seeing that Hades was tending to Hecate, slowly allowed herself to slip past the desk and approach the painting, tilting her head back more and more the closer she got. She could barely hear Hades mumbling to himself, thinking out loud in his panic to try and piece things together, over the sound of her pulse drumming in her ears. 

She was beautiful. The version of her in the portrait radiated such a powerful, demanding energy and Persephone didn’t know how to handle it. The first inkling of a lump in her throat began to form, and she wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes began to prickle with tears. The dress, the shimmering ring on her finger, the _crown._

She was a Queen. _Hades’ Queen._

Of all her wildest imaginations, this had never occurred to her. Not once. 

All her life she was _Kore, The Maiden_. Expected to spend her life in service to others. To not be that for once, the promise that wasn’t all she _was_. Persephone couldn’t help but feel her heart fill with such a sharp and sweet pain all at once, breath hitching her chest. She can have this; she could have the crown, the ring, a place by Hades’ side. _She had it._

Hades meanwhile, was much too occupied looking for _something_ on his desk-not-desk that might clue them into which exact _version_ of his office they might be in. Frantically thumbing through papers, he groaned as found nothing of value, his eyes darting around the desk until he saw _it._

“ _Persephone_.” Hades’ sharp tone finally managed to pull her from her thoughts and she reluctantly whipped around to see him standing on the other side of the desk. 

“Huh?” Persephone didn’t expect herself to sound so dazed when she finally spoke again, but she guessed that if she was going to be entranced by anything, looking at herself in a wedding portrait that wasn’t there five minutes ago wasn’t the worst.

Hades looked as if he was at a loss. The color had drained from his face and slowly, he looked down at the cluttered desk before him. Out of the several picture frames on it, he reached for the biggest one. Seeing it made his heart catch in his throat. 

It was them again—but this time, they seemed to be in a bed of some sort, both of them. They both looked exhausted, the couple obviously in a mixture of sleep and under clothes, their hair mussed and sweaty. But that wasn’t what Hades was focused on. 

There were two little bundles, one in each of their arms. The smiles on their faces were so warm, so genuine, so _happy_. For the first time in his long life, Hades saw what it looked like for there to be love in his eyes. 

He looked at Persephone, a furrow between his brows. “I don’t—I don’t know if I can fix th—”

“ _Hades, hush.”_

Hades finally noticed that Persephone was visibly shaken, wide eyed as she stared at the door with an intensity that made his own heart leap in his chest.

“Persephone, wh–”

“ _Listen,”_ she hissed, her voice a whisper. _Insistent as always_ , Hades snidely thought.

Hades did as she said, closing his mouth and trying to tune his ears to the best of his abilities to listen for whatever it was Persephone was hearing. A few moments of silence passed.

“Persephone, I don’t h—” Hades stopped himself, his blood running cold as he finally heard it. Was that...?

_Giggling?_

Both of them could finally hear it closing in on them, the happy sounds of small giggles, _children’s_ giggles. An expression of confusion drew over his face; Underworld Corp. was hardly a place for children, most certainly not his floor. Hades could only make out a few words, the voices growing louder with each moment that passed. 

“ _Zag, slow down!”_ a small voice cried out.

“ _You speed up!”_ another equally small voice called back.

The laughter was finally outside the doors, and panic swam through both Persephone and Hades when it sounded like someone was trying to pull on them. They looked around frantically—there wasn’t really anywhere for them to hide. Hades panicked until he remembered—maybe Hecate could do something, even though she was drained. He turned towards the couch, opening his mouth to call her name but—

She was gone.

Hecate was gone, and there was nothing but an indent on the couch to prove she had just been there.

Well. Shit.

“ _Zaaaag_ , it’s push! You always pull!” 

“I’ll push _you_ , Mel, hmph!”

Persephone rushed to Hades’ and grabbed his sleeve, holding onto it for dear life.

“ _Hades, what do we do?”_

He gulped. “ _I don’t know.”_

It quickly became evident that there was nothing _to_ do, because in the next moment, the door was being swung open. Another moment later, one, two, three small little beings were crowding into the office, making a competition of who could get inside first. 

It only took one more crucial moment for them to see Hades and Persephone, and they stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Uh.” The short, pink child with a bandaid on his chin was the first one to speak. He immediately took the hand of an even smaller child, an obvious toddler standing between him and a lanky, blue girl with even darker blue patches all over the parts of her body that were visible. Behind thick glasses, the pair stared at Hades and Persephone with well earned skepticism. 

The silence between the two groups was tense.

“Um,” was all Hades could say in return before—

“ _Bababababababa!_ ” The lilac toddler squealed happily, breaking free from her siblings’ grasp to dart at Hades with gleeful enthusiasm. Her legs, though quite wobbly, carried her over as fast as she could, the white ruffles of her dress bouncing with joy. Both Persephone and Hades watched gobsmacked as the little one ran straight into his legs, the toddler knocked off her balance and sent falling straight onto her bottom right in front of them. 

“Macaria, no!” the girl, the assumed ‘ _Mel_ ,’ said in a panic, but it was too late. _‘Macaria’_ used Hades’ convenient pant leg in front of her to hoist herself back up with one hand, the other one doing a grabbing motion up towards the apparent ceiling. 

“Up! _Up!_ ” she demanded, brow furrowed.

Correction: Up towards _Hades._

Persephone and Hades looked at each other, eyes filled with immense confusion, worry, and panic. It wasn’t that Hades was afraid to hold a baby, he was afraid to hold _this_ baby. But with every passing second, she became more and more persistent as he became more and more flustered. 

“What do I do?!” Hades finally croaked out to Persephone. 

“Pick her up!” Persephone hissed through her teeth.

“No! I don’t want to pick her up!” Hades looked down at Macaria, hearing his pulse thunder in his ears.

“ _Babaaaaaa_ ,” Macaria whined, and they looked down to see a pout on her face. Her lip began to wobble and there was no doubt about the tears brimming her eyes. 

“Hades, _pick her up_ ,” Persephone urged, trying to keep one eye on the other two kids across the room, making sure that, Fates forbid, they don’t bring anyone else into the room.

“You pick her up!” Hades countered, trying to ignore the insistent tugging on his pants leg.

“She wants _you_!” Persephone groaned, leaning over to finally pick up the toddler herself before holding Macaria out to Hades. “Take her!”

“I—I can’t!” 

The rejection from Hades proved to be too much for the poor little child, for those tears of hers finally breached. She threw her head back and let out a heart clenching wail of anguish, or at least the best a little thing like her could let out. She began to cry for her _Baba_ , and Hades could only deduce that that was _him_. The crying—crying was not good. 

Quickly, he finally caved and took Macaria from Persephone’s arms, trying desperately to soothe her woes. But it was far too late. She was already hiccuping with her tears, even more so when Hades seemed to fail at knowing how to calm her down. As Hades desperately tried to bounce the wailing toddler into calmness like he had seen Hera do with her toddlers, Persephone felt a tight tug on her skirt. Turning around, her eyes bulged when she saw that the other two had somehow made their way over here when she wasn’t looking.

“You don’t look like Mama! Well…you do, but like. Not,” the pink one proclaimed, having no concept of an indoor voice. “You kinda look like her, but Mama has long, long, _long_ hair! Not short like yours! And her belly is big too!” He narrowed his eyes at her. Before Persephone could get a word in, the blue girl started up.

“Yeah! Auntie H told us all about—about e–ee-loo-sons, and how people can use it and look like people we know! Bad guys!” Mel pointed an accusatory finger into her gut, eyes glaring through her big circular glasses. Persephone might have had the need to be offended, if, once again, she had the _slightest_ clue of what was going on right now. 

“We need to ask them a question, Zag! Somethin’ that only Mama and Baba would know, like Auntie H said,” Mel instructed, pushing her glasses up her nose only to have them fall down again. The boy, _‘Zag_ ,’ nodded his head enthusiastically. 

“Yeah…! Like what?” he asked, lost. Mel rolled her eyes before she grabbed her presumed brother’s collar and whispered something into his ear, his bespectacled eyes and missing-teeth smile widening as she did so. “Oh that’s a good one!” Mel stepped away from Zag, allowing him to approach Hades and Persephone directly, his little chest all puffed up in his ever failing attempt to be intimidating. 

“When is my and Mel’s birthday, _Mama_ and _Baba?_ ” Zag asked, his brow raised with confidence that he had them, and to be fair he did. Persephone and Hades shared an anxious look.

Persephone tried to smile. 

“May 1st?” she meekly guessed.

Mel and Zag looked at each other.

“ _BAD GUYS!”_ they screamed out, their battle cry as they charged on the poor pair before them, Persephone trying her best to fend off little hands while Hades was desperately trying to keep the still wailing Macaria out of harm’s way as the two children waged their war against them, shoving and pushing with all their might. Hades could feel his dread and panic build with each passing moment.

The only thing that could be worse than this—

Footsteps in the hall. _Fast_ ones. 

In a blur, the doors to the office were flung open with surprising force. All eyes in the room, even the baby who finally took a moment to stop crying, turned towards the doorway. A sharp silence fell upon them quickly. 

Standing at the door to the office was…was _Hades_. It was Hades—except that it _wasn’t_. He wore a sophisticated black turtleneck and nice jeans, but was contrasted greatly by the prominent five o’clock shadow he was sporting. But Good Fates, his hair was _long_. At least, they would have to assume it was from the impressive _bun_ his hair was pulled back into. _A bun_. Hades always hated Thanatos’ man bun and he couldn’t quite describe the fire it stoked in him to see an even more egregious one on the top of his own head. 

But that fire was quickly doused when Hades met his own eyes. Not because it was odd to stare at himself without a mirror, but because there was a _look_ in the other man’s eyes that sent a chill darting through his spine. Hades didn’t know he could muster such a look, but Gods, did it _terrify_ him. 

“Put my daughter down. _Now_.” 

There was no need to be told twice. Hades carefully placed the now calm Macaria down onto her feet, the toddler no longer paying him any mind now that the true object of her affections was in the room. Her grin split her chubby cheeks with ease.

“AbabababababaBABABABABABABA!” She squealed with delight as she ran across the room once more towards the other Hades, arms already reaching out to him. The other Hades scooped up the toddler effortlessly, and he settled her into the crook of his arm, pressing a kiss to her temple as he looked over her for any signs of harm. After he was done giving his once over, he snapped his head back towards the rest of the group, eyes gleaming red. 

“ _Zagreus. Melinoë. Behind me._ _Now._ ”

The other two siblings were quick to follow the other Hades’ instruction, the both of them rushing to hide behind their...their _actual father._

There was no room for any other emotions besides fear when Persephone clutched to Hades’ arm, both of them equally frightened by what on Olympus would happen next. 

Hades knew very well exactly what he was capable of. Today could be the day Persephone found out. Still...despite the fear that was streaming through her veins, there was still a trickle of...fascination. _Intrigue._

The other Hades finally turned his attention back to them, glaring _daggers_ in their direction. 

“I don’t know _who_ you are.” His voice was low—deep in his chest, each word laced with a threatening growl, teeth bared. “I don’t know _where_ you got this _piss poor_ black market glamour. But you have _five seconds_ to _beg_ me not to throw you into the pit of Tartarus or feed you to my canines,” the King spat, his eyes now consumed by the crimson that had been steadily leaking in.

The lights went out but the room didn’t darken. The Other Hades was _glowing._

Genuine dread washed over both Hades and Persephone as they watched the edges of the other Hades’ body begin to darken, slowly, but surely. Persephone had only seen this, the stars that embellished his body and the glow of his eyes, once in an act of mercy. 

She was certain that wasn’t the case this time. 

“ _One.”_ The wind picked up in the room.

“Please listen! This is all a big misunderstanding—” Hades tried to reason, the desperation in his voice apparent.

“ _Two._ ” Persephone swore the floor beneath her was shaking. Specks of white continued to consume and overwhelm the other King’s body.

“ _Three._ ” the King hissed, his voice now one of a beast, loud and booming. Hades pulled Persephone tight to him, trying to shield her with his body. She clenched her eyes shut.

“ _FOUR!_ ” the King commanded, raising his free hand into the air, his bident materializing out of nowhere into his hand, crackling to life. Hades prayed that it would be painless, not for his sake, but Persephone’s. Please.

“F—”

“ _AIDONEUS, STOP, IT’S US!”_

The air went still once again and the cowering pair couldn’t stop from breathing sighs of relief when the King began to revert back to normal. This was only so he could whip around to see the source of the panicked voice. 

Hecate. 

_Two of them._

“I—Hecate?”

“It’s _us_ ,” said the only one of them that wasn’t drenched in coffee. Though to be fair, that wasn’t the only differing quality. The Hecate who had just spoken sported significantly shorter hair, the pixie cut leaving her pierced ears on full display, her back straight as she stood in her brilliantly carmine jacket. “Sweet Gaia, put the bident away, Aidoneus,” she scolded, as she entered the office with the other Hecate in tow.

It quickly became evident that one thing hadn’t changed was Hades’ willingness to abide by Hecate’s advice, as the bident was gone in a flick of his wrist and a _whoosh._

“These are _trespassers_ , Hecate, we can’t trust—”

“Trust _me,_ Aidoneus,” the new Hecate pleaded her old friend. “It’s us. _They’re_ us.”

Aidoneus’ shoulders fell. He floundered for a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate response. He glanced between the two Hecates and Hades and Persephone. 

Persephone caught his eye, and her heart trembled at the way they seemed to soften in an instant. 

Nothing else could be said, not before the door to the office was opened for a fourth and final time. 

“What’s going on in here?” 

By now, it was expected, but still shocking to see who stood in the doorway, worry etched on her face as she tried to steady her labored breathing— _Persephone._

Queen Persephone—tired, in her maxi dress and sandals, with a hand on a very large baby bump. 

One moment there was silence. The next, a thud. 

For Persephone, _Kore,_ had collapsed next to Hades. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all the love and support so far!! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter as much as I did!  
> As always, comments and kudoses are always appreciated! you can also find me @_thatsrough on twitter (I draw there sometimes)! 💙  
> \- K.G.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

Seven days.

 _Seven days._ Seven days and eighteen hours to be exact since the original due date of her fourth child, and Persephone was _still_ pregnant. She had tried _everything_ she could—long walks, spicy food, the more... _inappropriate_ solutions to try and make things start to happen. Perhaps that had been her motivation to take Aidoneus up on his offer to have a family day, maybe visit the office to make sure things were alright in their absence. It was this absolute desire to see the end of her pregnancy that was enough to make her power through an entire day of walking around Tower One. 

Persephone adored her children; she never knew she could love someone so unconditionally so fast. Not to mention the fact that when she first got married she didn’t even know she could have a child with Aidoneus, much less three of them. But _Gods,_ the want to meet her new child and also get this over with was so potent, that she could feel her already thin patience waning with every second. 

They made their way through the lobby, nodding at every respectful bow and hello as their twins raced ahead of them, the occasion of “seeing Mama and Baba’s work” always a special one. The family slowly shuffled (or in Persephone’s case, _waddled_ ) through the many floors of Tower One, checking in with employees and making sure that things were running smoothly in the wake of their parental leave. Though it was Melinoë’s idea for their next stop, which, of course, was “Auntie H’s” office.

Persephone was in no position to argue because, well. At least Hecate’s office was calm, air conditioned, and had a couch. 

The family entered the office as quietly as they could, but even that was for naught with Zag’s rambunctious “HI AUNTIE H!” upon arrival. Both of the twins immediately clamored for the poor goddess’ attention about _what’s this? What are you doing? Can you do a magic trick, Auntie H? Please please please!_

Persephone paid no mind to the usual niceties as she quickly (not that she did anything _truly_ quick these days) made a beeline for Hecate’s couch. Sure, maybe it wasn’t as plush as the couch in her husband’s office, but _Fates_ , it was nice to sit. Persephone couldn’t help the audible sound of relief she made when she finally settled into the cushions, so comfortable she couldn’t even bring herself to be irritated when Aidoneus and Hecate both chuckled at it.

“Still waiting for little…” Hecate tsked. “Still no name, I’m assuming.”

Persephone wore an indignant pout while Aidoneus tried to bite back a snicker, but wasn’t so successful. She shot him a _look_ , one that made him clear his throat immediately. “Sorry,” he grumbled, still the hint of a smile on his lips as he adjusted little Macaria in his arms. “Still waiting, Hecate. On him _and_ the name. We’ll get there eventually though.”

“Well,” Hecate said with a small smirk, “I wish you the best then.”

“Auntie H.” Zagreus had approached Hecate to tug on the ends of her coat, smiling widely up at her despite his missing teeth. “I asked—I asked Mama and Baba to name Baby after me. They should, huh!” 

Hecate looked between the child and then his parents, a mischievous grin grew on the witch’s face. “Well, I think they’ll definitely consider it. Right, Your Majesties?”

“Nuh-uh, Auntie H! Zag is a dumb name for a baby, we already have one!” Melinoë interjected, turning away from the bookcase she had been nosing around, a pout on her lips as she faced her parents. ‘Zag,’ in childish retaliation, stuck his tongue out at his sister.

“You’re just still mad because Aunt Hera said the baby was going to be a boy!” he taunted, crossing his arms. Melinoë gasped, clearly offended.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“ _Aidoneus_ ,” Persephone groaned from the couch, her hands over her eyes, her head throbbing from her children’s arguing.

“Oh- _kaaaaay_ , that’s enough,” Aidoneus said in such a fatherly fashion, not noticing Hecate already had her arms held out for Macaria when Aidoneus absentmindedly handed her to his friend. The King used his large hands to wrangle the children by the tops of their heads, guiding them to his sides. “What did I say about bickering around Mama?”

Both the children frowned towards the ground. “Don’t do it,” they said in guilty unison. 

“Uh-huh. So let’s not, yes?” Aidoneus asked his two oldest, brow raised.

Zag and Mel both nodded underneath Aidoneus’ hands and he finally lifted them from their heads with a prideful smile. “Good.” He looked to Hecate then and softened his grin. “The kids just wanted to say _hello._ I’m going to pick up some paperwork from my office quickly and we’ll be out of here. Thanks for letting us barge in.” 

Hecate simply chuckled as she put Macaria down to toddle back over to her family, reorganizing the papers on her desk. “Oh, it’s not that big of a deal! The kids are always fun to h–”

“Mama, what’s wrong?” Zag’s voice asked, worried.

Aidoneus turned around and found Persephone on the edge of the couch, she gripped the cushions with such an intensity that he thought they might rip. Her face was scrunched up in the recognizable pain of a contraction, raw and harsh, sweat already formed on her brow from the severity of it. Aidoneus immediately felt his heart drop to his stomach, rushing to her side. 

“Butterfly, are you okay?” he asked in a hushed voice, kneeling in front of her, hands on her knees. She put hers over his and squeezed, a silent way of telling him that _no_ , she wasn’t. At least not right now. Aidoneus looked to Hecate, then his children. “Zag, Mel, take Macaria to Baba’s office, okay? We’ll be there in a moment. Just sit on the couch,” he ordered them as calmly as he could. 

“Is Mama okay?” Mel asked, brows furrowed as she grabbed Macaria’s hand, pulling the toddler away from the chair arm she was gumming on. Aidoneus glanced at his wife then at his daughter.

“She will be, just go to the office. We’ll be there,” he reassured, giving his kids a nod. That was apparently all Zag needed, grabbing his twin’s hand, giving her a firm nod.

“C’mon, Mel, Mama will be okay. Let’s go Mac!” Macaria gave an excited babble, holding tight to her siblings’ hands as they left the office, turning the corner and disappearing from sight. Aidoneus couldn’t see them go however, because he was too focused on checking the hands of his watch. He finally looked up when Persephone finally let go of her vice grip on his hand, a shaky exhale leaving her lips as she did so. Aidoneus sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Sweetness, that was over a minute,” he muttered, his eyes filled with a concern that Persephone was all too well acquainted with here lately.

“They’ve all been over a minute here lately, Aidoneus, but they have been _hours_ apart. It’s just the baby being a brat,” she grumbled as she gave her bump a rub. Aidoneus chuckled, his nerves calmed enough that he could finally stand up. 

“The baby isn’t being a brat, your body is just trying to get ready for the real deal.” Aidoneus smiled as he offered a hand to his wife. She took it without hesitation and allowed him to help her off of the couch. 

“I’ve _been_ ready for the ‘real deal’ for a week now,” Persephone huffed before she sent an apologetic smile to Hecate who was looking at them with worry in her eyes. “Apologies for the theatrics, Hecate. We’ll be out of your hair now.” 

“Please don’t hesitate to ask for help, you two,” Hecate said, sighing. “I’m here for you, as always.” She granted them a sympathetic smile, watching as Aidoneus helped his queen to her feet.

The pair bid goodbye to their dear friend before exiting her office into the quiet hallways. Persephone always hated how long the walk to Aidoneus’ office was, but even more so now that she was reduced to waddling and waiting for her next jolt of pain. The long walks helped, she supposed. 

Aidoneus hooked his arm in hers and walked by her side at her pace. She leaned onto him with a tired, but grateful sigh. Still, he looked down at her with concern in his eyes. 

“Sweetness, we didn’t have to come out today,” he told her gently. 

“I may be a couple millennia younger than you, my love, but I’m still capable of making my own decisions.” Persephone glanced up at her husband with a teasing smirk on her lips. “Besides, I needed a day out. There was ivy growing on the bed post because I was laying there so long.” Her joke was half hearted. 

“You’re wise beyond your years, darling.” He sighed, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Also, that was you? I hadn’t the faintest idea,” he added. He almost sounded genuine if it wasn’t for the cheeky smile on his face.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence as they continued their trek, something they cherished nowadays as parents. Something that was once taken for granted, so scarce now in their ever busy lives, the ones they’ve lived for seven years and counting. 

That silence was short-lived, but appreciated nonetheless, when they could hear Macaria begin to cry from upstairs. They shared a look and a groan.

“I swear she never wanted to eat this much when she was younger.” Persephone groaned as she slumped onto her husband’s shoulder, discouraged as the two of them stepped onto the elevator. She watched as Aidoneus pressed the button for the ninety-ninth floor, starting their ascent.

“Well, maybe she’s going through a growth spurt. She needs her energy,” Aidoneus offered, the quiet sound of generic elevator music playing under their conversation.

“Well, maybe she’s just trying to get a head start since this baby is going to be so big,” Persephone huffed.

“Just because you _feel_ big, doesn’t mean that the baby will be,” Aidoneus reassured.

“Did Hera ever tell you not to argue with pregnant women?” Persephone sarcastically asked with a quirked brow, only to be waved off.

“You _knoooow_ ,” Aidoneus drawled, as he tried to distract Persephone from her irritability, “I have a very strong feeling I may be getting the best birthday present this year.” 

“Hey, you don’t get to just—”

Persephone cut herself short when she heard it. They _both_ heard it. It was no longer just Macaria who was sending noise into the foyer of the ninety-ninth floor, but the eldest children as well. It was just that they weren’t crying, they were _yelling_. Not just any yelling, like the normal yelling they do at each other. They were shouts of peril. It was parental instinct to know the difference. Panic flooded both the parents’ senses.

“Aidoneus,” Persephone breathed. “ _Go_.” 

Aidoneus looked between her and the hallway, his eyes darting frantically. “ _Persephone, I—”_

 _“_ You _need_ to go, now! I’ll catch up, just _go_!” she shouted, ignoring the lump that had formed in her throat and the nausea in her stomach. 

Aidoneus hesitated for the briefest moment. His children could be in danger, but something could happen to his very pregnant wife. But Persephone was right—she was capable on her own, he knew that very well, and their children _needed_ him. He took a deep breath. “I—okay. Scream, yell, do anything if it happens again, okay?” He gave her one last look before he took off, so heavy and full of love that it took everything the Queen had not to break right there.

As her husband ran, Persephone tried her best to follow after, damning the world, the heavens, and even Tartarus for her sheer inability to keep up. Her hands hiked up the skirt of her dress as she tried her best attempt at running, though it was rather pathetic. She tried her best to ignore the way tears stung at the back of her eyes when she heard her husband’s voice boom, her heart clenched in fear.

The hallway to his office seemed to stretch with the more breath she lost and the dizzier she became. The yelling, voices that somehow seemed familiar and foreign all at once, and then what sounded like _Hecate_ —it was all too much. Still, Persephone trekked on, continuing her painstaking journey to that damned office until _finally_ , she was there. She wasted no time in swinging the door open, prepared to do whatever it took to protect her family—her _everything._

What she was met with was not at all what she had been expecting. 

“What’s going on in here?” she asked, heavy breathing and all, when she saw another version of herself, her husband, and two Hecates standing there in the flesh. 

At least until the other version of herself collapsed to the floor.

—

Kore had very little recollection of the moments that passed after she had fainted. Well, to be fair, she’s not even sure _why_ she fainted. Sure, maybe the fact that she saw her future self heavily pregnant with what could only be _Hades_ ’ _child_ was so jarringly surreal and the exact opposite of the vision of the future she had been force fed her entire life, but that couldn’t be it! Right?

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the blinding light. The second was the large yet tender hand petting her hair, slowly coaxing her back into consciousness. It was quickly realized to be Hades, _her_ Hades, and it was as if their explosive argument hadn’t led them here. As if there was no current, glaring animosity between them. Things hadn’t exactly been _resolved_ , but Kore couldn’t help the way her body instinctively relaxed into his touch.

“She’s awake!” the voice she recognized as Zagreus declared, but she couldn’t tell from where. But it was promptly followed by a loud “ _Shhhhh_ ,” from who she could only guess was his sister. 

Finally, Kore lifted her head carefully to look around the room. Sitting in one of the arm chairs was both Zagreus and Melinoë, holding a fussy Macaria in their laps. The two Hecates stood together by the desk, waiting anxiously with the same exact furrows in their brow. 

But the sight of _Persephone_ , very pregnant, sitting behind the desk with the wedding portrait looming behind her—she nearly passed out again. 

She managed to keep her composure, finally looking to the two Kings. Hades sat by her side, Aidoneus a few paces behind him. It was now that she realized that she was on the grey couch Hecate had been laying on earlier, and she put together quickly that this must’ve been where they laid her down when she fainted. Kore slowly lifted herself to a sitting position. She was so dazed that it took her a moment to realize that Hades was holding a glass of water out to her.

She blinked a few times, then reached for the glass with a muttered _“thank you,”_ and took a few big gulps.

“Are you feeling alright?” Hades asked in that gentle tone of his. The one he normally had with her, just not...not recently. She bit back the instinctive want to snidely comment, _What do you care?_

Instead, Kore lowered the glass and looked at Hades with a faint sigh. “I feel okay. Just a little dizzy.” She paused, looking around the room at all the Gods surrounding her. She pouted. “Still...very confused.”

“You’re not the only one,” Hecate with the pixie cut chimed in, arms crossed over her chest. “...Myself and I were waiting for you to come to so we could try and gather our bearings all at once.”

Aidoneus sighed, finally pulling up a chair for himself so he could sit by Persephone. “I’m still not entirely trusting of all of this.”

“Aidoneus, I don’t blame you, but please believe me when I say these doppelgängers are us. Us from fifteen years ago, mind you, but still. They’re us,” Pixie Cut Hecate assured, the Hecate beside her nodding her head in agreement.

“What did you do to make _you_ believe that... Well, you’re _you_?” Hades asked the younger of the two Hecates, who simply sighed. 

“Well, to be completely honest, it’s a little cheesy,” Hecate started. “I gained her trust in my credibility by telling her something only the two of us would know. It’s hard to not believe someone when they know one of your deepest secrets.” She straightened out her bangs by running her fingers through it. 

“I like that idea.” At last, Persephone spoke from her spot in Aidoneus’ desk chair. They all looked at her, and Kore swallowed thickly, pushing down the lump of nerves that formed from the intensity of Persephone’s gaze.

“It’s not bad,” Aidoneus agreed, nodding slightly. “Who should go first then?” 

Kore held her breath, hoping that Hades would volunteer to put off the inevitable a little longer—

“I’ll go first,” Persephone declared.

Sugarsnaps.

Persephone appeared to think for the briefest moment before the lightbulb finally went off. She leaned forward (as much as she could) and peered at Kore with an unreadable look. A few moments later, the corners of her lips twitched into a rather _devious_ smile, the expression on her own face foreign to Kore. “Who was your first kiss?”

Kore’s face fell immediately. Heat rushed to her cheeks and her stomach flipped at the not so distant memory of her first kiss, and it was as if Persephone knew immediately how this version of herself would react to such a question. Kore’s throat dried. She had no idea she would grow into a _sadist._

“Kore…?” Hades pondered quietly by her side and Kore could see even he had a sheepish look on his face. She couldn’t meet his eyes for longer than three seconds before she looked down, fiddling with her thumbs in her lap.

In that moment, Pixie Cut Hecate had taken it upon herself to drag the younger her and herself behind the kids. She put her hands over both of Zagreus’ ears, and Hecate followed suit with Melinoë. The kids looked up at them quizzically, as did both of the Kings. Pixie Cut Hecate only sent Persephone a knowing smile. The twins glanced at each other, both of them sharing a small giggle before they each put one hand over both of Macaria’s ears. Though, to be fair, the toddler was much more interested in chewing on her fingers than the conversation at hand. 

“ _ItwasAres_ ,” Kore finally mumbled, most certainly not loud enough for anyone to hear, let alone Persephone. A moment of silence passed.

“WHAT WAS THAT? I CAN’T HEAR,” Zagreus loudly asked, Pixie Cut Hecate’s hands still over his ears. He was quickly shushed by Mel but not before Persephone could chuckle at him.

“As my son said, what was that, Kore?” Persephone inquired, not even bothering to mask the teasing tone of her voice.

Kore let out a heavy sigh, but her eyes remained trained on her hands as her face burned. “It was _Ares._ ”

“ _Trespassers_ ,” Aidoneus was quick to say, his voice taking on an accusing tone. 

“Actually—” Persephone looked at her husband and his face turned into that of a kicked puppy’s. “She’s right,” she confessed, placing her hands at the top of her baby bump calmly. 

“Uh, what?” the two Kings said in unison. Kore thought she was going to combust from the embarrassment of it all.

“My first kiss was out in Mama’s orchards with Ares, it didn’t end all that well, but it’s the truth,” Persephone confirmed rather matter-of-factly, looking up at her gaping husband and then back to her younger self. “Right, _Kore_?” 

“Yes ma’am,” Persephone whimpered, just wanting this moment to pass already.

Neither Hades or Aidoneus could hide the wounded look on both of their faces, though maybe Aidoneus looked the slightest bit more hurt. 

“You never told me that,” he grumbled, staring down his wife. Persephone sighed, and Kore could swear that for the first time she saw the Queen _soften._

“Well, he isn’t the man I married, is he?” Persephone responded, and maybe the words might have come off as sharp if her tone didn’t _ooze_ an emotion that Kore had never heard in her own voice before. “If it makes you feel any better, my mother beat him with a pitchfork afterwards.” 

Kore couldn’t help but allow herself a snicker at the memory, and for once when she met Persephone’s eye, they shared that laugh and a gentle smile. 

Aidoneus’ inner child still pouted a little. “Only slightly.” 

“I love _you_ , Aidoneus,” Persephone said, much quieter than the voice she was using before. Like those words were only for him, because they _were._ It was then that she leaned over, using a tender hand to cup his cheek before she pressed the most loving kiss against his lips, ignoring the way their children ‘Ew!’d at the action.

Seeing that, seeing the way they melted against each other as if the rest of the realm fell away—it pulled at Kore’s heart. She’d spent many nights dreaming of what it’d be like to kiss Hades. Although she didn’t know, watching the other pair’s kiss start and end filled her with an unspeakable emotion. A good one. 

It took Hades, his face a dark and burning blue, clearing his throat for them to focus back on the task at hand.

“I’ll get this over with then,” Aidoneus said once he’d finally pulled back from his wife, rather reluctantly. “Hades,” he began, settling back into his chair, but still holding his wife’s hand nonetheless. The King took a moment to think, as if he was raking his brain for which secret to share, both of the men knowing there were plenty to choose from. Living for millennia will do that to you. A few seconds of tense silence passed and both Kore and Hades’ dread increased with each second. Kore was so caught up in her own anxious thoughts that she was startled when the King spoke again.

 _“That could work,”_ Aidoneus muttered to himself, lifting Persephone’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it before letting it go, moving to the edge of his seat. Kore could swear that the man was…blushing? 

“Hades,” he started once more. “Tell me what I kept in the drawer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudoses are always appreciated! 💙  
> -K.G.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tell me what I kept in the drawer.” 

The silence that fell on them was stifling. Hades gulped.

“What drawer?”

“If you’re who you say you are, you _know_ what drawer.”

Hades could feel all eyes on him, and he didn’t know which gaze was worse—Kore’s or Persephone’s. He refused to look at either of them, his eyes trained on Aidoneus, _himself,_ with that utterly ridiculous man bun atop his head (okay, maybe it looked _fine_ , but that burned him even more). His legs were so leisurely crossed as if he wasn’t asking his younger self to air out one of his most precious secrets.

“I don’t think I can answer that,” he finally said, swallowing once more. “Might as well get the bident back out.”

Aidoneus squinted at him. “Tell me, _Hades._ ”

Shit. _Fine_. 

He took a deep breath, eyes casting down to his lap so no one could see the way his face was burning as he parted his lips to finally speak. It took a few moments before words actually left his throat, but when they did, they came out as a mere croak. “A letter.”

“To who?”

“To...To Kore.”

From the corner of his vision, Hades could see Kore’s head lift to look right at him, her eyes boring into the side of his head. Her gaze, her attention, always wrapped him with such warmth and it made him feel so nice, so _wanted._ But now it felt like he wanted to just disappear, have the ground swallow him whole. But he knew he wouldn’t have anywhere to go even if he tried. 

He finally looked back up at Aidoneus who only arched his brow at him, urging him to continue. He never thought he would have such a strong desire to strangle himself but here he was. 

Hades let out a heavy sigh. “Her handmade business card. The...napkin that had the baklava in it. The mug she used the morning after I met her. Some...of the petals she left in the g-guest bed,” he stuttered out, which only added to the burning of his face. If he ever considered telling Kore about the drawer (which he hadn’t, not once), he _definitely_ did not want to do it under these circumstances. After he finished, a beat of silence passed. Hades’ felt her eyes burning on him, could see her fiddling with her thumbs in his peripheral, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. The idea of it made him nauseous.

“You could’ve stopped after the letter.” Aidoneus chuckled, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

If he couldn't strangle him, Hades was definitely going to punch him.

But for now, he could do nothing but watch as Aidoneus and Persephone shared a look; Aidoneus kissed the back of her hand again and nodded to her. Their silent communication made Hades’ heart flutter in a new way. 

“Well, okay,” Aidoneus finally said. “We trust you then. Now is just the matter of...why you’re here. How you got here, how do we get rid of you?”

“About that,” Hecate spoke up at last, leaving her spot by herself and the children. Though she looked exhausted, like she was about to collapse just as Kore had, there was a newfound sheepishness in her face. “I believe it was my fault.”

“Hecate at _fault_?” Aidoneus snickered, receiving a sharp glare from Pixie Cut Hecate. 

“ _No_ ,” she sneered, and then she pointed to Kore and Hades. “ _Their_ fault. _Your_ fault.” 

“What?” Persephone looked to the two on the couch. 

“We...may or may not have been…” Hades trailed off with a guilty expression. 

“ _Arguing_. Bickering like the two children in the arm chair!” Pixie Cut Hecate groaned (unaware of the exaggerated pouts that Zagreus and Melinoë wore). “Perhaps it was...her fault for what she said in the midst of it, but _they_ were too caught up in their own mess to have any regard for anyone else.” 

“What did she say?” Persephone inquired, the furrow in her brow seemingly etched into her face. Pixie Cut Hecate simply gave her younger self a look, the goddess seemingly bashful under her own glare.

“I said…‘Either sleep together or tell the other that you hate them,’” Hecate admitted to the older couple, even though they both still had confused expressions on their faces, silently looking at the older of the two Hecates for an explanation. The witch goddess rolled her eyes.

“ _Basically_ ,” she began, “with my title as Goddess of the Crossroads, both literal and metaphorical, with that emotional outburst of my younger self, she presented them with two options. The road where Hades and Kore get together, and the road where Hades and Kore don’t.” She looked around to make sure that everyone was still with her. 

“Essentially, I sent us hurtling through time to the absolute extreme of the first road. The road where they get together. Your timeline,” Hecate finished, nervously biting her lip. 

“Now, good news,” the other Hecate chimed back in, “I have everything for the spell we need to send them back, even the more…hard to come by ingredients. The bad news?” She winced. “It’s going to take four to five days because we have to wait for the next blood moon, which is on the night before His Majesty’s birthday.” 

Then, she paused. She took a deep breath. 

“The worst news though…” She started again, and Hades didn’t miss the way Aidoneus’ hand clutched Persephone’s a little tighter. “We only have one shot. No mistakes.”

Aidoneus’ face contorted from one of worry to upset. “One shot?! Why in Tartarus would we only have—”

“ _It requires a vial of the Titan of Time’s blood.”_

The look that grew on both Aidoneus’ _and_ Hades’ faces could only be described as _horrified_. It was Aidoneus who stuttered out something first. 

“H-how did you—”

“I’ve had it since the titans were overthrown. Millennia. I’ve never found, or could justify, the use of it but now…” She looked almost guilty at her confession. It was Kore who finally broke the silence.

“Just to clarify we’re talking about… Well, we’re talking about—”

“Cronus. We’re talking about Cronus, yes,” Persephone cut her off, a tinge of impatience to her voice. Hades felt his heart break a little with the _hurt_ that flashed over Kore’s face, the goddess shrinking in on herself in her embarrassment, but his attention was once again caught by Persephone’s voice. “So let me get this straight,” she began once again, her eyes shut as she rubbed at her temple with her free hand. “We only have one vial of blood and one blood moon coming up, which means we only have one shot. What happens if that one shot doesn’t work?”

“Time collapses,” the older Hecate answered point blank. “If they miss a week, it’s fine, but if they never get back? There’s no us to become _Us_. The Paradox makes the timeline fall apart completely. But—” She sucked in another breath, fully aware of the King and Queen’s worried faces. “It _will_ work. You just have to give me, and my double, five days. Okay?”

Aidoneus and Persephone looked at each other, and it pulled at Hades’ heart to see the way she looked down at her large baby bump, a tender hand rubbing over it. It wasn’t until then did the reality of this all come crashing down. In all honesty, Hades thought he’d been having a terrible nightmare. He was so accustomed to those that it wouldn’t have phased him one bit. But this—the raw emotion, the worry and distress radiating through the room was all real. There was no doubt about that. 

“We’ll do whatever we can to help then,” Aidoneus finally spoke up. His voice took on the authority of a King as he looked to the Hecates, brows furrowed in determination. He stood then, and helped Persephone to her feet. 

“I’ll take both myself and I home then so we can work on this together,” Pixie Cut Hecate said with a small sigh before she turned to Kore and Hades with an angry glimmer in her eye, “ _without_ interruption.” 

Hades gulped. 

Hecate was as terrifying as she was intelligent and powerful. 

“Then I’m hoping we can make our leave,” Persephone stated. “I understand the circumstances are dire, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nine months and seven days pregnant with an _incredibly_ hungry baby. I was promised lunch, and I’m holding my husband to it.” She gave her husband’s hand a squeeze. Aidoneus still had a worried look, but whatever it was, whatever Persephone’s eyes _said_ to him, it was apparently enough to soothe the man’s nerves. Aidoneus cleared his throat. 

“You’ll stay with us then,” he said finally to Kore and Hades. “We can’t have you roaming about. You wouldn’t be able to pass as... _us_ , even if you tried.” 

Hades heard two little gasps come from the children who had been listening intently, even if they couldn’t fully understand what was going on. 

But neither him nor Kore could argue. It was painfully obvious that, while aspects of them were still the same, so much had changed between fifteen years ago and now. Hades was well aware he had a lot of things to figure out about himself, but _this_ Aidoneus—Hades could tell that a cloud of worry didn’t shroud him every moment of the day, and if a momentary relapse arose, it was gone in an instant. Each instance had been accompanied by a touch of Persephone’s hand, or just a glance. 

“Zag and Mel, get your sister and stand up. We’re going home,” Persephone called her children, reaching her free hand out to her son. Zagreus happily got out of the seat with his sisters in tow, not wasting one moment to go and grab his mother’s hand. Aidoneus let go of his wife’s hand to grab little Melinoë’s, the other one scooping up Macaria with ease. Hades felt his breath catch in his chest as he saw them all, hands all linked together. 

A family.

“C’mon, you two. Everyone should mostly be on their lunch break so this is a good time to go.” Persephone placed a hand on her back, moving her way around the desk with her son still in tow. Hades watched as the Queen simply waddled off, past everyone, not caring to wait for them to catch up. Aidoneus sighed.

“Well… You heard my wife. Let’s go.”

Hearing his own voice refer to Persephone as _his wife_ really did something to Hades. Nonetheless, he and Kore followed suit, dragging behind like a pair of children who got in trouble at grade school. 

Hades knew very well it was because of them that they were here. A nagging voice in the back of his head was telling him it was _entirely_ his fault, but his therapist would tell him that wasn’t _“productive thinking”_ or _“a healthy coping mechanism,”_ so he tried desperately to shut it down. 

Still, as they walked many paces behind the slow walking family (he had no issues keeping at Persephone’s pace, and neither did Aidoneus it seemed), he couldn’t help but kick himself when he saw the way Kore had seemed to close in on herself, her arms hugging herself as she looked down at the patterned floor with a worried crease between her brow. He knew what was looming between them very well. Their fighting, their feelings, _the secret he’d just let out._

Hades’ own thoughts quickly began to fester until—

“I didn’t know you’d kept all of those things.” Kore’s voice pulled him away from that dark and crumbling edge of self-deprecation. He looked down, his eyes filling to the brim with a sorrowful tenderness he didn’t know he had. 

“I...you probably think it’s creepy, I’d understand completely, I just—” Hades started only to be interrupted by Kore’s voice.

“The baklava napkin?” She asked, her voice so, _so_ timid.

“Huh?”

“You kept that?” She looked up at him, his heart trembling at the glistening _tears_ unspilt. He swallowed.

“Uh...yeah. I know, weird—” He turned his head away, bashful.

“I thought you hated me that day,” she said, voice still quiet. Hades turned his head back to her, eyes wide with disbelief that she could even begin to think that he could _hate_ her.

“...Kore, I could never…” He tried, but words evaded him.

“I think I cried over you that night.” Hades could see the way she dug her nails into her palms, avoiding his gaze.

“Kore, I’m…” _Sorry? An idiot? A fool for making both of us endure this never ending tug of war?_ But who was he really tugging with? Kore, or himself? 

“It’s okay,” Kore sighed, “I’m not exactly blameless either.” She conceded, a hand tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Hades sighed.

“Kore, what I’m trying to say is—” He stopped himself, seeing that Kore was now much more focused looking at what was in front of them, a timid and unsure smile on her face. He followed her gaze until he came upon what she must be looking at.

In front of them, her head turned around, the little blue girl with the navy patches, _Melinoë_ , he remembered the name, was staring at them. No, _glaring_ at them. Behind those round glasses, the little girl’s pink eyes were narrowed with such vindictiveness that Hades almost felt small under it. 

Kore was the first to do anything, lifting a hand to give a small wave, only for the little girl to give a “hmph!” and turn away. Both Kore and Hades shared a look. So much for trying.

“I don’t think she likes us,” Kore leaned over to whisper to Hades, completely moved on from their prior conversation. He wouldn’t have been fine with it because he so _desperately_ wanted to make amends, but there was finally the hint of a smile on Kore’s lips. He knew that maybe now wasn’t the time. He mustered his own faint grin and hummed. 

“I’ll gain her trust, just wait.” 

“Oh, you think so?” She goaded, her face finally giving way to a grin. Still, a glimmer of melancholy laid within her eyes. That small sadness that she always seemed to bear with. It chipped away at his heart. 

“I _know_ so,” Hades said. “You’ll see. I have a way with kids. I’m not ‘favorite uncle’ for no reason.” 

He wasn’t met with a verbal response. Just a soft look from those gentle, melancholic eyes and a small hum. That would just have to do for now, and he could be content with that. 

Navigating their way out of Tower One without anyone noticing was tough to say the least. Thankfully, the Queen was right. Most people were on their breaks, so as soon as they could slip out of the building to the parking garage, they all followed Aidoneus to his car. At least Hades _thought_ it was a car until he clicked his keys and the horn of a _minivan_ sounded off. 

“Oh come on,” Hades could barely stop himself from saying. “I can deal with the man bun, but _this?”_

Aidoneus merely glared at him. 

“It’s convenient when you have a _family_.” Hades didn’t miss the laced animosity in his older self’s voice, suddenly feeling the need to swallow his own tongue once more. But the moment didn’t last for long, the tension broke by the Queen.

“Will both of you stop arguing over cars and get in? I want to sit on my own couch, please and thank you.” She called out behind her before attempting the struggle to get in the passenger seat. Aidoneus shot Hades one last look before going to put Macaria in her car seat, the other two kids waiting. It was once again Zagreus who spoke up. 

“Mr. Not-Baba-Baba, you need to put the seat down so you and Ms. Not-Mama-Mama can get into the back! Me and Mel are finally big enough to ride without car seats!” the boy declared proudly, his grin confident. Hades flustered.

“Uh, okay. Uhm. Let me do that.”

Hades pulled back a half of the second row seats, leaving a pathway for him and Kore to get into the third row of seats. After the admittedly awkward climb in, Kore and Hades found themselves now perfectly trapped behind the row of children in front of them, their parents past that. Aidoneus, previously busy helping his wife get in (after fighting her protests that she could do it herself, really) was now _finally_ getting into the driver’s seat. He exhaled, a smile now on his face as Hades’ could see from his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Now,” Aidoneus started, “let’s go home.”

The trip _home_ was quiet. Hades watched the streets, took in everything that changed and everything that didn’t. There were more buildings, more cars, _better_ cars. Fifteen years in the Underworld had always felt like a hundred. 

The city slowly turned into suburbs, where the richest of the rich lived. Roads became familiar and Hades couldn’t help but buzz a little with excitement that he could finally settle down in _his home_ after a long day. Surely that must have at least stayed the same. 

But—as they finally approached a familiar, dark house, they drove straight past it. 

“Wait,” he said from the back row, “why aren’t we stopping?” He looked out the back window, watching his old home slowly disappear. 

“Oh.” Aidoneus hummed. “We grew out of that house quite a while ago.”

Hades couldn’t help but frown. 

“That house had four guest bedrooms, not to mention four bathrooms with each one.” Hades countered from the backseat. Aidoneus simply clicked his tongue and Hades could swear he heard Persephone…giggle? 

“Well, when Persephone and I married I figured that I should probably move out of a damn bachelor pad, but we waited. Then we found out about the twins and well...let’s just say it put things into perspective for us,” Aidoneus explained, turning the corner. 

Hades opened his mouth to reply but his throat quickly dried with the sight in front of him.

In front of them, was a huge, no, _gigantic_ mansion before them, looming at the top of (and he couldn’t make this up) a hill, overlooking the cityscape in the distance. The building, the _palace,_ a beautiful mismatch of victorian and modern fixtures, somehow imposing yet oddly welcoming all at once. But what really, _truly_ got Hades, and almost, _almost_ brought tears to his eyes?

All the damn _flowers_ out in the front.

Hades paid no mind to the smug grin that grew on Aidoneus’ face.

“Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3 thank you for reading!  
> \- K.G.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Julia as always <3

It was only a matter of driving up the incline of the hill before the van approached the massive gates of the mansion, Hades’ lips turning downwards as he saw that the gates had been monogrammed with a rather extravagant “A&P” in the center. They separated to let them pass through. This was _Zeus_ status; Hades never pictured something like this for himself. He never pictured life beyond the bachelor pad. At least, it was never a feasible daydream. Not with Minthe, not with anyone. Anyone except…

Before he knew it, they were in front of a large garage door that opened with a loud mechanical buzz. It was only then did Hades’ heart finally manage to settle when he saw some of his familiar cars, some new ones in the enormous garage. Good to know he still had _some_ taste for what had been a great passion for him once upon a time. 

“Alright, big man, little moth, what’s for lunch?” Aidoneus asked as he parked, Hades internally cringing at the man’s familiarness with handling a minivan. In front of him, however, Zagreus let out a hum of thought, kicking his feet aimlessly. 

“I dunno! I guess whatever Mama wants for lun—” 

Mel gasped loudly. “No, don’t—!”

“I would like chicken fettuccine!” Persephone declared, more of an answer than a suggestion as she held her chin high. A chorus of groans escaped her children behind her.

“But Mama! We had fettuccine last night!” Mel whined, exasperated. Zag frantically nodded in agreement, eyes big and pleading. 

“And for lunch the day before that! Please Mama, can’t we have—have—um! Chicken _nuggets_?” Zag offered, hands clasped together in a little mock prayer. Aidoneus simply shook his head.

“You know the rules. If Mama wants chicken fettuccine right now, she’s getting chicken fettuccine,” he reminded, ignoring the complaints of his passengers. Well, _most_ of his passengers. 

In the back, Hades watched as Kore raised her hand, his brow furrowed, confused to what she was doing. Why was she—?

“Yes, Kore?” Aidoneus’ voice called back to them.

She put her hand down.

“Um,” she croaked, “I thought I was a vegetarian…” 

Persephone pinched the bridge of her nose. “We are. But the baby is not.” 

A heavy pout formed on Kore’s lips (and maybe Hades stared for a few moments too long) before she sunk into her seat. “Okay,” she grumbled. “I’m not quite hungry anyways.” Hades could swear he saw the smallest glint of sympathy in Aidoneus’ eyes but it was gone as soon as it came. The King let out a sigh.

“Well now that’s all decided; let’s go and get out of this van, hm?” 

“ _Please_ ,” Hades said with an urgency he didn’t know he had until the word left his mouth. As soon as the kids were out, he was quick to hop out of the van and stretch his limbs. 

However, it was only a matter of moments before he and Kore once again began their awkward parade behind the family, the kids chattering off about something that echoed against the concrete walls of the garage, each holding a hand of their mother’s. Macaria, the little one, was once again on her father’s hip, content to gum on his shoulder as he unlocked a door that Hades could only assume was an entrance to the home. 

“Now, I know this isn’t exactly what you’re used to but I think you’ll find it more than comfortable.”

Hades should have been preparing himself for the shock of seeing the _inside_ of the home, but he hadn’t. So it hit him, full force, to see how... _homey_ it was, how it _felt_ that way, excruciatingly so. It was _warm, well-lit_ even! Different flower vases decorated the home, various statues and children’s toys scattered throughout. But what really got him, what _really_ pulled at his heart—all of the photos.

Professional portraits, random snapshots, beloved memories hung on the walls, more than Hades could count. Each one was in a perfect frame, filled to the brim with smiling faces. Aidoneus had a handful in his office, but here? It was like they couldn’t get enough of showing off their family. Like it was intoxicating, a proud gesture of _Look at what we did_ for any visitors to their home. 

“My couch!” Persephone said with maybe a little too much genuine excitement, waddling as fast as she could through the entryway, completely desensitized to the grandeur of the high walls and marble of the mansion’s foyer. 

Hades saw Aidoneus with the fondest smile on his face as he watched his wife waddle away with the kids in tow, plopping down on the living room couch with exhaustion. Aidoneus chuckled for a moment, but then looked back to Hades and Kore. 

“Kore,” he said kindly, “could you stay with her and the kids? I’ll take Hades with me to cook,” he stated, not waiting for them before he moved into the kitchen. 

Hades raised his brow, him and Kore sharing a confused look before he spoke again. “Why do you need me to cook with you?”

“Two cooks in the kitchen make it go faster, now get in here!” Aidoneus called back, the sounds of pots and pans being pulled out echoing from the kitchen. Hades had half a mind to say that making a guest cook was hardly good hospitality, but he was silenced by a gentle hand on his arm.

“You should go,” Kore finally said, looking up at him. “I’ll stay with Persephone and the kids. Just go help.” She avoided his gaze and he couldn’t help but feel that guilt bubble up in his gut once more. He still had not apologized for what he said, and it seemed like the rift it caused between them was growing more and more with each passing moment. He wanted to say _something_ but he knew that there was nothing to be said, at least, nothing that was going to take away that melancholic look in her eyes.

“I—Okay.” Hades relented, nodding his head. With that, Kore gave his arm one last squeeze and a little half smile before slipping away, leaving him alone to his own devices. Well, he guessed that he did have to go and play sous chef to himself.

Hades finally entered the kitchen, taken aback for a moment. His kitchen back home was modern and industrial, spotless white marble atop of dark blue cabinets, perfect, clean, and _lonely_. This kitchen however, was full to the brim with jars and pans and knick knacks that served no purpose. There was a whole shelf dedicated to cookbooks and the one above that was taken over by a flower box, dripping with foliage. In fact, Hades noticed that there seemed to be plants _everywhere_ , on the counters, the island, even on the table that sat in what looked to be a breakfast nook. The fridge even had the kids’ art on it for fates’ sake.

“Ready to cook?” Aidoneus’ voice asked, pulling Hades out of his thoughts. Hades turned to face his older self.

“Yeah, let’s—Really?” Hades asked, the corners of his mouth quirking down. 

Aidoneus, still tying his “Kiss The Cook” apron, simply gave a cheeky smile in return. “What? I don’t have another, so you’re out of luck.”

“Just…Nevermind. Let’s get started.” 

At first, things were...quiet. Hades was met with the challenge of realizing that Aidoneus had quit alphabetizing things, and instead organized by category— _which_ , in retrospect, was probably a much more efficient way of doing things but _Gods_. Aidoneus didn’t have to wear such a pretentious smirk while he rummaged around for a good minute until he finally helped Hades. 

After everything was underway, they fell into a quiet. A stifling one, like they could both choke on the lingering questions both of them were bound to have. 

It was Aidoneus who bit first, currently preparing the chicken to be grilled. 

“So,” he said, breaking the tense silence in the kitchen at last. “I’m assuming you and Kore aren’t together.”

Hades peered at him, bringing water to a boil. “No,” he said, perhaps a bit too sullenly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“Is it not painfully obvious that she doesn’t?” Aidoneus retorted, pulling out blocks of parmesan and romano cheese out of the fridge, placing them on the counter to be grated for the sauce in a moment.

“This is just one of multiple timelines,” Hades shot back, pointedly looking at the water instead of his double. Why won’t this damn pot boil? “I think I’ve been killing any shot I have for the past two weeks.”

“Gods, was I always this much of an annoying pessimist?” Aidoneus laughed, not caring to hide his obvious condescension. 

Hades slammed down the lid on the pot, just as it began to boil. He turned around on his heel, brow furrowed. 

“Look, can we not talk about me and Kore?” he huffed, obviously exasperated with the topic before it really even got a chance to start. 

A beat of silence between the two Kings.

“Hmph. I suppose I’ve tortured you enough for today,” Aidoneus relented, finished with the chicken and now grating cheese. Hades leaned against the counter, watching the god work.

“Thank you.” He sighed, before the two of them once again fell into uncomfortable silence. Hades guessed it was his turn to carry the burden of starting small talk. “So...how are things? How is everyone?”

“Good, I mean,” Aidoneus shrugged, but there was a sense of sorrow in it. “Poseidon is doing good. Zeus is...Zeus. We actually…don’t talk to him much anymore. Just the occasional check in. I don’t know why it took so long to realize that we were enabling him. Too little, too late, but still.” 

“Oh,” Hades replied, not really sure what else to say. Aidoneus sighed, a tired one.

“We miss him. He misses us. He promised he’d try to get help, try to change but—hundreds of years of... _everything_ can’t be undone in fifteen,” he muttered, staring down at his work with an intensity not needed _just_ for grating cheese. Hades knew when he was poking at someone’s emotional bruises, _especially_ his own. He nodded.

“I...I understand.”

“As for everything else,” Aidoneus sighed, before pausing, and a fond smile grew on his face. “I think you’d be happy to know I sleep at night.” He finished with a tenderness in his eyes Hades didn’t know he was capable of. He felt his cheeks heat up before looking away.

“Let’s just finish this damn pasta,” he grumbled.

“Language,” Aidoneus chided. “There are _children_ in the house.”

Maybe they finally shared a small chuckle. 

It wasn’t long before the kitchen was filled with a delightful aroma, the smell of the sauce and the chicken flooding Hades’ senses. He hadn’t had a meal like this in quite some time and, not to brag, but he knew how good of a cook he was. He could only imagine that it bettered with time. He busied himself with pulling out plates and silverware. It wasn’t until then did he notice Aidoneus setting aside a serving of pasta. Without chicken. 

He looked at him quizzically; Hades was sure Aidoneus could feel his eyes on him, because he glanced at him with a raised brow. 

“It’s for Kore,” he stated. Hades still stared. Aidoneus rolled his eyes. “It’s called a compromise,” a pause, “try it some time.”

Hades simply didn’t know what to say. 

They served lunch on fine dishware to a table with eccentrically carved legs and a glossy wood top. This never would have been Hades’ first pick, nor second or third. But...it was nice. It tied the dining room together well, sitting underneath a diamond chandelier. 

“Lunch!” Aidoneus called as he set down the last plate. Kore’s plate. 

Small groans came from the family room, followed by begrudging footsteps into the dining room. Zagreus and Melinoë trudged into the room, taking their spots like perfectly practiced clockwork. A few moments later, Persephone waddled in; she looked at the food on the table with ravenous eyes—or maybe just the eyes of a heavily pregnant, very hungry woman. Either way, she was about to devour it. 

Then—it was Kore. She walked in with the smallest child in her arms, Macaria’s head resting peacefully on her shoulder while her hands played with Kore’s hair (with surprising gentleness). There was a pang in Hades’ chest—he couldn’t name it, he’d never felt it before. The only familiarity it held was the feeling his chest held after pleasant, bittersweet dreams of Kore. Kore, and him, and a family. That feeling had always waned so quickly though, he never had the chance to process it. But now? Now it was able to crest and consume him completely. 

It was joy. It was unbridled contentment. 

It was hope. 

“I can continue watching...Macaria? I can take care of her while you eat lunch,” Kore said softly to the parents, more so to Aidoneus than Persephone because she was preoccupied with settling into her chair and putting a cloth napkin over her bump. 

“Nonsense. I’ll put her in her high chair, you sit,” Aidoneus said. He nudged his head, motioning towards the plate he’d set out for her, and Hades just barely caught the wink he gave Kore. Why there was a flicker of jealousy within him at the way Kore blushed and sheepishly nodded her head, he wasn’t sure. It was _himself._ He swallowed it down quickly—it was _absurd._

Hades watched their hands brush as Kore handed Macaria off to Aidoneus before finally, everyone was able to take their seats. His just so happened to be across from Kore’s. 

The fettuccine was _good._ Hades wasn’t surprised; having two good cooks in the kitchen meant that lunch being delicious was nearly inevitable but there was a sour taste in his mouth he couldn’t quite kick. That blush _still_ hadn’t left Kore’s cheeks, a rosy hue to her face as she quietly ate her pasta, only replying to Zag’s apparently endless questions.

“Why is your hair short?” Zag had asked, ignoring his meal.

“Because I like it that way,” Persephone would respond, taking another bite.

“Would you ever shave your head?”

“Maybe. Would you?”

“No! How old are you?” 

“I’m twenty!”

“That’s old.”

“Yeah, I’m _ancient_.” 

A chuckle rumbled through the adults at the table, sure in the knowledge that twenty years was nothing close to being ancient. It was when you were eight though. Finally, it was Aidoneus who finally put an end to his son’s interrogation of Kore.

“Zagreus, let Miss Kore eat her food in peace. You need to eat yours too,” he firmly reminded, but there was no animosity in his voice. 

“I’m fine, really. It reminds me of the little ones back on Mama’s compound,” Kore reassured, shooting a shy, _soft_ smile towards Aidoneus. Hades thought having his heart in a vice would’ve been kinder. 

However, it wasn’t just Hades who noticed it this time. Her plate cleared, Persephone could finally pay attention to the conversation at hand, only to see her younger self and Aidoneus share a smile that was perhaps a little _too_ tender. Hades saw Persephone’s face turn stern all of a sudden, as if something had come over her, a vein twitching in her forehead that wasn’t there before. She let her silverware clang down onto her plate, loudly interrupting the moment. 

“I got to go to the restroom. Baby is sitting on my bladder again,” she grumbled as she pushed her chair away from the table, then attempted to stand up. Aidoneus quickly got up, ready to help his wife.

“Here, let me—” 

“ _I’ve got it.”_ Persephone’s response was quick and blunt, her voice unexpectedly harsh.

The wounded look on Aidoneus’ face was quickly detectable. Hades almost felt bad for the man. Almost. 

It seemed as though Aidoneus knew better than to push though, to prod a Queen’s buttons any further. So he didn’t. He swallowed and Hades watched the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Okay,” Aidoneus said carefully, but still with surprising softness. “Call if you need me.”

“Sure thing.” Persephone was curt, short and sharp with her words. If Hades looked close enough, maybe he could see the flicker of remorse, of a guilty sadness in her eyes. But he didn’t dare to even try. 

Finally, she moved the fastest Hades had seen so far in her desperate attempt to leave the dining room. They all watched with different emotions in their eyes. Confusion, worry, even maybe heartache. 

Silence once again became their closest friend, at least until…

“Take.” 

Hades looked to his side after feeling a little fist hit on his arm. Sitting between him and Aidoneus was Macaria, snacking away on little fish shaped crackers. She looked up at him with shining eyes, her little arm outreached with an open palm. In it were three (and a half, the fourth had already been bitten) crackers...maybe just a little soggy. From her hands or her drool, Hades couldn’t tell.

“Oh,” Hades said, nervously smiling at the child. He shook his hands in rejection at her. “I’m okay, little one. Thank you though.”

“ _Take_.” Macaria was stern, and her brows quickly furrowed on her tiny face. 

“Hades, take them,” Aidoneus finally said. His voice was calm but there was a slight urgency. For the first time the entire lunch, the other girl, Melinoë spoke up.

“Mac screams if you don’t eat her crackers when she gives them,” the older girl explained, her voice an ominous monotone.

Hades looked between Aidoneus, Melinoë, and the toddler who was growing increasingly impatient. He gulped as soon as he saw the wobble to her little lip. He couldn’t have this child crying because of him _again._

“Okay, okay,” he sighed, finally taking the crackers from her. He looked down at them, a wavering smile on his face (though it was far more of a grimace). He hesitated for a moment before he finally put them in his mouth, faking a hum of contentment. “Mmm. _Sooo_ good.” 

Slobber or baby hand sweat, it was not good at all. 

Macaria gave her hands an excited clap, hiccuping baby laughs filling the room. It was then that Hades heard the snort from the other side of the table.

There sat Kore, grinning like a mad man, a hand covering her mouth to catch any laugh that leaked out, though it was doing its job poorly. 

“What’s so funny?”

Another snort.

“Nothing! Nothing, just funny pasta is all.” She giggled, not caring to come up with a better lie.

Hades turned to Macaria. “Hey, Macaria was it? Macaria, I think Kore over here would love some crackers.” He gestured to her, trying to explain it the best he could. 

Macaria gleamed. She picked up some of the fish crackers soaking in a puddle of spilled juice and did her best to reach out to Kore. 

“Take! Take!”

Suddenly Kore’s laughter stopped. She looked at Hades, absolutely incredulous. 

“You have to take them, Kore,” Hades reminded, absolutely smug.

“Or she’ll scream. Loudly.” Zag nodded his head, full of eight year old wisdom.

As Hades watched Kore pout at him, his heart filled with that same sensation from earlier. As she reached over, she still stared at him as if to silently say _How could you!_ But there was a glimmer in her eyes—not melancholy, and not genuine disdain. Hades couldn’t pinpoint it, but it wrapped warmly around his heart. The other two kids couldn’t help but snicker from their spots, and even Aidoneus was stifling a few chuckles despite the obvious worry he still had for Persephone’s well-being. 

But, as Kore chewed on those very soggy crackers, her and Hades shared their first genuine smile in weeks, and a laugh. 

—

“Here’s the guest bedroom you’ll be staying in,” Persephone announced as she waddled into the guest bedroom, Hades following behind. “Aidoneus and I are two doors down so if you need anything, you can find us there. There’s a bathroom, fully stocked. I’m sure I can steal some clothes from my husband for you.”

“I can do all of that Persephone, it’s fine, really,” Hades said as he walked into the bedroom, soaking in the comfortable environment. At least Aidoneus still prided himself in the extra rooms of his home. Hades loved his guest rooms at home just as he did this one. “We barged into your life unexpectedly and I’d hate to put any more stress on you than we have already.” 

“I’d pay you a salary to barge in on every single aspect of my life, Hades.” Persephone turned back to Hades from the bed, sitting down on it to stretch her legs and roll her ankles. She looked at him with a confident smirk and a sparkle in her eyes. 

Immediately, Hades’ cheeks warmed. “I...wha…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that and I haven’t, even after all these years.”

Oh. It hit him just a second later. She...she remembered that? 

“I...right. No, I remember,” he said softly and allowed himself a slight smile. 

“Good.” Persephone’s smile turned into something that Hades couldn’t quite read. She sat for a few more moments before she pushed herself up with a small groan. That smile of hers faltered just slightly, and she put a hand on her swollen belly. “Aidoneus and I use that line to just...flirt a little with one another all the time, it’s probably one of the sweetest things he’s ever said. Well, _you._ ” 

“I—I can’t remember if I was actually trying to flirt, or if it was just—you know, if it was just—”

Suddenly, Persephone gasped, eyes darting down to her belly. An instinctual panic he didn’t know he had flared in Hades and he stepped forward, reaching out. “Are you okay?” 

“Shush,” Persephone said, quickly taking one of his hands. Hades had to ignore the way her soft hands felt on his as she dragged it to her belly. “Feel.”

She laid his large palm on the swell of her stomach, and for a moment he didn’t know exactly what he was feeling for because there was nothing to feel. At least not until there was. 

A small kick against his palm. 

Hades’ heart filled with such warmth as a few more followed and he looked to meet Persephone’s gentle, excited eyes. 

“He’s been dragging me through Tartarus and back but Gods, he knows how to perform when I want him too.” She chuckled, then an emotion that Hades couldn’t describe entered her eyes. “It’s just…these moments are so precious, Hades…” 

“I…” was all that Hades could breathe. There was something in him that began to grow, knowing that this wasn’t just some random woman and this wasn’t some random child moving underneath his palm. It was _Persephone,_ and it was Persephone’s and _his_ child. Even though the fact of the matter that it wasn’t _actually_ his (at least not _yet_ ) was there, but the idea that he could have this—it formed a lump in his throat. 

“ _Achem_.” 

Both of them looked towards the source of the noise to see Aidoneus standing in the doorway holding extra linens, towels, toiletries, and clothes. He was inspecting them closely, trying to make sense of the scene before him. Hades was quick to yank his hand away and straighten up, even stepping away from Persephone. 

“Darling, I had no idea you were there,” Persephone said but there wasn’t even a hint of sincerity. In fact she almost seemed…smug? As if things had unfolded just as she expected them to, to her obvious satisfaction.

Aidoneus, however, only squinted at his wife and walked over to the dresser in the room to place down the items he carried with him. 

“I already gave some clothes to Kore, but she said they were a little loose on her,” Aidoneus stated, ignoring his wife, his back turned to her as he put the clothes for Hades into the drawers. Which meant he missed the indignant look that flashed across his wife’s face, obviously _hurt_ by what he said whether it was his intent or not. Hades watched her scramble for something to say back when—

She looked at him, a coy smile growing on her face. “That’s okay, I’m sure they’ll work fine anyways. However, on the note of changing outfits, I need to take a shower before dinner, but—”

Aidoneus turned around just in time to see his wife get on her tiptoes, and place a sweet, unmistakable _kiss_ on Hades’ cheek. Both of the men stood in shocked silence as she pulled away, that small smile on her face still intact.

“I hope that you’re comfortable here, Hades,” she said sweetly, though Hades felt like she wasn’t really speaking to him at all. She shot one last glance at Aidoneus, then turned on her heel and waddled out of the room, her hair swishing behind her as she disappeared around the corner.

Both of the Kings stood still for what felt like eons. At least until Aidoneus finally tugged on his collar and gave Hades a stiff glance. “Dinner will be at seven,” he said simply, but it was still enough to send a chill through Hades’ body. With that, he strode out of the room, not making eye contact with Hades _once_. 

There wasn’t a single ounce of Hades that knew what was going on. The day had been one long cluster of mishap after mishap. The series of events were still trying to fit themselves into a puzzle board that wasn’t even made for them. He paced the room, trying desperately to make sense of anything and prepare himself for the next five days, but—it wasn’t working. He busied himself and his mind with putting away the linens and toiletries, setting up his clothes in the closet to have some semblance of organization in these hectic times. 

He was interrupted however by a knock on the door.

Oh good.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the closet door, silently begging the fates for it to be anyone _but_ Persephone or Aidoneus. For the sweet love of Gaia, even Macaria with her fish crackers would be better. He took a moment to prepare before opening the door, bracing for the worst. 

But it wasn’t.

It was Kore.

“Oh,” he breathed, surprised that it was her of all people.

“Hi,” she replied, her voice back to the timid nature it had in Tower One.

“Hi,” he instinctively responded, not knowing what else to say. 

A moment of silence passed. Hades almost said something to break it, but Kore beat him to it.

“Can we talk?”

Despite the flash of panic that one simple sentence induced, Hades could do nothing more than say—

“Of course.”

So he let her in and he shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~things are not as they seem~~  
>  Comments and kudos appreciated! 💖  
> \- K.G.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would not have been possible without the help of Alpha and Mimi, you two truly came in clutch for me. Thank you, and I send you two all my love always. Also, for future readers, I would like it to be known that the previous five chapters were co-authored with Sickly, but going forward, they will be written solely by me, KindnessGraceless or K.G.. To current readers, thank you for patience. I hope this is worth it, I really tried to make sure it was.

The large guest room Aidoneus had shown her to gave Kore plenty of ample space to pace back and forth as she contemplated her next move. She couldn’t even find the time to appreciate the room, with all of its embellishments and amenities. It was nice to know that Persephone and Aidoneus treated their guests well. It seemed as though Hades would still hold his beliefs about hospitality close to his heart, even all these years later. And she had so carelessly dismissed his concerns in their argument, so easily let herself forget how things _mattered_ to him.

For the first time since this whole mess started, Kore felt guilt creep into her mind, causing her to wince as she finally came to a stop in the middle of the room. In the whirlwind of events that had happened this afternoon, Kore realized that she hadn’t had the chance to truly apologize for her actions. _Well, he hasn’t apologized either,_ a nasty voice commented in the back of her head. She whisked it away quickly though—now wasn’t the time for that bitter little voice to make an appearance. With the heaviest sigh, she headed for the bedroom door. 

It was just in time to peer down the hall and see Persephone striding out of one of the bedrooms, faster than she’d seen her move the entirety Kore had been there, followed a few moments later by Aidoneus. It must’ve been Hades’ room. She swallowed down the large lump of nerves in her throat, and once the other two were out of sight, she crept down the hall to that very door. She had half a mind to turn around and just leave it but before she knew it, her own fist was knocking on it.

_Traitor._

She felt her own breath catch as the door opened to reveal Hades standing there, a furrow in his brow. It occurred to Kore, the unpleasant realisation unfurling in her mind like a particularly thorny weed, that she had absolutely no idea of what to say to him.

He let out an “oh,” and Kore could already feel her heart sinking.

“Hi,” she started, swallowing, already far too uneasy. Had her mouth always been so dry?

“Hi,” he replied simply.

A moment of silence passed. Kore felt her heart pounding in her chest, crawling up her throat until she saw him start to open his mouth. She couldn’t stop herself from blurting her next words out, stumbling over them, determined to get them out before he could turn her away. “Can we talk?”

She saw him hesitate for a moment. The longer they stood staring at one another, the more convinced she became that she had made a grievous error by knocking on the door. She swallowed, shame wrapping her up in a skin two sizes smaller than her own, too tight to breathe. Why hadn’t she made a better plan? Why hadn’t she just _thought_ for a second before marching down here, like a stupid, impulsive kid -

“Of course,” he finally relented, opening the door fully to her.

As she stepped into the room, Kore realized that she was beyond the point of no return. She couldn’t just come in and say nothing at all. She turned back towards the door as she watched him gently close it. He looked as if he was… Embarrassed? Or at least, trying to get over it. She couldn’t observe his expression for long, however, because before she knew it, he was staring her down, his eyebrow cocked and waiting for her to speak. Sugar snaps. 

“Uhm,” she began, hands fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. She knew that she wanted to talk about the fight, but she found that rather hard because… Well. They had never really resolved the fight, had they? That would be the sensible place to start. She’d start there, and figure out the rest as she talked. “I think we should talk about what happened before we, uh, got here.” She spoke weakly, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she was flying by the seat of her pants. 

Her heart sank, when she saw the corner of Hades’ mouth quirk down.

“What about it?” The words were cold, stiff and harsh as they left his mouth. She gulped.

“I just—” She fumbled for words. “I think that because everything is… _weird,_ right now, maybe we should try to put what happened behind us for now. Just focus on getting home and making the best of the situation?” She finished, looking up at him, allowing their eyes to finally meet. Maybe, if he agreed, things could be better, not just now, but in general. She couldn’t help wondering if this - this future that they found themselves in - gave him the same hope it did her, that despite things being rough between them now, they could grow and move past it.

The hope was smothered by the nonchalant shrug he gave her.

“We can do that. I guess,” he said blandly, simply staring at her with what seemed to be little more than a disinterested gaze. Kore was starting to wish that she had kept herself in check better, had resisted the temptation to knock on the door, to fight with him in the first place, even. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering down to the floor, which stubbornly refused to open up and swallow her whole, despite her fervent wishes. 

“So,” the word left her mouth, sour on her tongue. “Are we good?” She asked, knowing deep in her heart, in the _truth_ of her heart, the answer was _no._

“Of course.” He replied, clipped and polite. Kore nodded her head, allowing herself to rock back and forth on her heels. They stood in rather awkward silence, only interrupted by the soft ticking of the clock on Hades’ night stand. 

“So, is that it?” Hades finally spoke, tucking his hands into his pockets, and Kore watched his throat as he gently cleared it, letting her know that he was just as aware of the tension as she was. It was funny, even when things were so obviously not okay between them, that Kore still found herself in tune with his emotions, without even trying, really. 

She just wished that he would get in tune with hers.

“Well, then, I’m… Going to go see if I can help with dinner.” Her feet made no move to leave. The smallest part of her wished that Hades would ask her to stay, tell her that he wanted to talk and figure things out with her because all of this had made him realize, like her, that they could have something so, _so_ good and all it took was a little effort on both their parts—

“Oh. Good idea. I have to take a shower, so I won’t be out until right before.” He replied, scratching the back of his neck. The roiling anxiety in her stomach reached long, weedlike tendrils out throughout her insides, coiling thorny vines around her heart, up into her throat, choking her. She swallowed thickly, her eyes prickling with the barbs of unshed tears. 

“Yeah,” she allowed herself to croak out, trying to ignore the heat building in her face. “I’m going to go.” She spoke distractedly, much more focused on pushing past Hades and yanking the door open. She swore she could hear him call her name, but she slammed the door behind her anyway, the facade she had built falling apart faster and faster with each moment.

She quickly made her way down the hallway, her hands balled at her side, only coming up to wipe away the rapidly falling tears, and Kore couldn’t help the relief she felt when she finally reached her room, the slam of her door behind her accompanied by the first sob escaping her mouth. She fell back hard against the heavy wood, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she slowly sank down to the ground, her cries hiccuping up and out of her throat as tears streamed down and soaked the collar of her shirt.

Kore wrapped her arms around her legs, and pulled them tight to her chest, burying her face between her knees as she wept. The hurt she felt was spreading like poison through her body: her lungs, her throat, her _heart -_ leaving her utterly consumed by it, feeling broken on the hardwood floor of the guest bedroom as the vast emptiness of a grief she felt for something that she had never possessed swallowed her up.

Needless to say, she ended up not helping with dinner.

The meal itself ended up being painfully quiet., There was very little talking, except the seemingly endless, childish monologue of thinking aloud that came from Zagreus, but even that was cut short at times by the curt looks his twin gave him. Kore found herself staring at the two expressions of the children, each of them a reflection of her in one moment, and then painfully reminiscent of Hades the next. 

Kore usually prided herself on her introspection, and she would have been able to turn those talents on this moment - to untangle these incomprehensible feelings that bloomed within her upon recognition of her own characteristics in smaller, younger faces - were it not for the incessant glare of the queen sitting at the head of the table. Persephone, who had eaten as though she were filling a void at lunch, now seemed reluctant to indulge in the opulent meal her husband had cooked, much more content to let her eyes bore into the center of her double, only allowing Kore a brief moment of peace when she gave the same treatment to Aidoneus. 

While trying to remain as small as possible under the queen’s burning eye, Kore wouldn’t allow herself to look at Hades, not when she had almost so easily fallen apart in front of him a mere hour earlier. Hades had made it clear that they were not in the business of finally talking about their feelings, so a spiteful, angry part of her questioned why she should even talk to him at all, The thought was nasty and bitter, but it was all she could bring herself to think, for right now, at least.

It was hard to hurt, especially when you couldn’t even begin to heal yet.

“Baba, I’m finished, can I go wash my hands?” Zagreus finally piped, holding his hands up for his father to see, though maybe with more gusto than the action called for. Aidoneus chuckled, setting down his glass. 

“Yes, you can go,” he dismissed his son, who eagerly hopped out of his chair (that seemed much too big for a seven year old), and was already bolting around the corner before he suddenly skidded to a stop, one step away from disappearing from view. 

“Baba, I think Mel is done too. Can she come with me?” He asked, his gaze moving between his twin and his father. Kore couldn’t help that just then there was something uncharacteristically…soft, in the boy’s voice. It then occurred to Kore that the girl had yet to say anything in front of her since they first met in the office. Maybe she was shy. Maybe Zagreus was trying to speak for her. Kore’s heart warmed to see the interaction between the twins, something she hadn’t felt since earlier this afternoon.

Aidoneus gave his older daughter a look, his eyebrow raised in question. “Melinoë, are you finished?” For the first time during the entirety of dinner, the little girl perked up, pink eyes wide at her father’s question. She gave him an eager nod, her curls bouncing with the motion. He gave the girl a fond smile, mirroring her action. “Very well. You may go with your brother, little one.” She excused herself from the table with much the same speed as Zagreus, but a great deal more grace, only pausing for a moment to grab her plate and the one her brother had abandoned, much to the approval of Aidoneus. It didn’t take much to piece together who was the more responsible of the two twins. As Melinoë trotted out the dining room with dishes in hand, for the first time since the beginning of dinner, Aidoneus looked towards the younger doubles.

“If both of you are finished, I’ll take your plates.” Aidoneus assured Kore and Hades, a small, but strained smile on his face. He got up and gently collected their plates, but Kore realized that his eyes were deliberately avoiding her, all of the kind smiles and soft glances from earlier gone. She wondered what could have possibly changed between lunch and now. She knew that Persephone had been obviously upset with him but— That couldn’t have had anything to do with her. Right? Still, she gave Aidoneus a small nod of thanks.

When Aidoneus went to grab Persephone’s plate, that’s when the goddess finally spoke. “I can wash the plates, Aidoneus,” she offered, but the coolness in her voice made it clear that it was not out of any kindness. The animosity that brewed between the two monarchs was so stifling it sucked the air from the room. Kore’s chest felt tight in the vacuum. Aidoneus’ brow furrowed.

“I can wash the dishes, Persephone,” he replied, the hint of a challenge, a standing of his ground.

A blatant _pout_ came to the queen’s lips. 

“I can do it.” She hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to stand up by herself. Kore had to bite back a gasp when Persephone swatted Aidoneus’ hand when he tried to help her up. After a tense moment, Persephone was once again standing tall, and held her hands out to Aidoneus. “Give them to me,” she commanded, her tone far too serious to just be talking about dishwashing. 

Aidoneus kept the plates firmly in hand. “How about I wash these, and you go give Macaria her bath and put her down for bed?” His tone was cautious, an offer tentatively made. A compromise. Kore wondered distantly whether this truly was only fifteen years in the future, or fifteen _decades._

A tense moment passed between the two of them. Persephone huffed.

_“Fine,_ _”_ she reluctantly agreed, stepping away from the challenge to go and fetch the messy toddler from her high chair. For the briefest of moments, the stoic expression Persephone had worn throughout dinner softened as she lifted her daughter up and onto her shoulder. The steely look on her face returned, however, when she faced her husband again. “If I’m not done with her by the time you’re done with the dishes, you should start getting the twins ready for bed. Just because they have the week off for your birthday celebrations doesn’t mean they should stay up all hours of the night.”

The command left her lips cooly, and all Aidoneus could seemingly do was nod in response. A tight, _bitter_ smile came to the queen’s lips.

“Good.” She replied, and then gave one last look around the room, her eyes lingering on Kore with such an intensity that Kore found suffocating and familiar all at once. When had she felt like this before? As soon as the thought came to mind, Kore felt her blood freeze in her veins and her breath catch in her lungs. She had seen that look before, but not in the lines of her own expressions, no.

This was a look that belonged to her _mother._

Before Kore could begin to process that realization, Persephone was already disappearing around the corner with Macaria in tow. A breath that she didn’t even know she was holding escaped her. Persephone was just so… _different,_ from what she had imagined herself to be, much less what she thought what she _could_ be. Her whole life she had been taught to be the quiet, demure maiden and to see it so obviously contradicted…

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Hades clearing his throat. 

“So, when did our birthday become a week-long kingdom affair?” He asked with unmistakable snide, his left brow lifted with faux inquisitiveness. Aidoneus, however, was much too busy watching his wife retreat away from him. Kore’s heart broke a little bit at the wistfulness in his eyes.

“It became one when she said it should be one.” Aidoneus replied, his voice soft, his gaze still fixed on the doorway. Before the moment could go on any longer, he sighed and turned back towards the two of them. “You two can go back to your rooms, I’ll handle clearing up here.” He reassured the two, giving them a wry smile. Poor Aidoneus looked so exhausted _,_ so utterly worn out by the day that Kore couldn’t help but feel the guilt of her lack of usefulness creeping back into mind. 

Maybe, since she didn’t help with dinner, she could at least help cleaning up after it?

“Aidoneus, let me help. That’s a lot to clean on your own.” She approached him, reaching out to take what looked to be half of the dishes. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel Hades’ eyes glaring into her back, and she felt like she might shatter under the intensity of it. She hated this - having Hades be so obviously upset with her - but every single time she tried to extend an olive branch, he swatted it away only to continue fuming at her. Why wouldn’t he just say what he felt for once?

_That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it, Kore?_

Kore gripped the dishes tighter as she followed Aidoneus into the kitchen, leaving Hades behind. She really needed to get a grip on that voice.

“How about we do an assembly line system, hm? I’ll rinse them, and you’ll put them in the dishwasher. Sounds good?” Aidoneus offered, as the two of them came to stand in front of the sink, the king already pulling up the sleeves of his sweater. Kore gave him a nod, a small smile coming to her face as she grabbed a dish towel and folded it in front of her to catch any excess water. The towel seemed to have some sort of pink and red floral print. She couldn’t imagine Hades ever buying something like that himself, so it had to be—

“Do you know what’s wrong with Persephone, Aidoneus?” She hadn’t really meant to say that out loud, but she couldn’t take it back, not when the king had suddenly stopped scrubbing, his hands stilling. The sound of running water filled the silence that fell between him, Kore trying to decide whether or not she should just swallow her tongue and backtrack. _Whatever was going on between them was hardly her business and it was rude for her to even ask,_ a voice that sounded awfully like her mother chided. She was just about to open her mouth to apologize when Aidoneus let out a defeated sigh.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he confessed, his eyes staring down at the plate he held underneath the water, the remnants of dinner washed away and down the drain. “It’s just like… A switch flipped in her or something. I mean, I’m not surprised, she’s been really stressed with the baby being overdue, and no offense, this whole situation certainly doesn’t help with any anxiety she might have, I just wish she’d—” He stopped, searching for the words to say. 

“She’d talk to you?” Kore finished for him, and the king gave her a kind smile, though his eyes were still so full of worry and sadness. Kore’s heart clenched at the familiar expression.

“Yeah, I wish she’d talk to me.” He replied softly, handing her a dish to put up. “We haven’t been this cold to each other since… Well since, and I mean this with no offense, we were your age.” He chuckled, but there was little humor behind it. It was Kore’s turn to huff, as she slammed the dish into the rack a little too aggressively.

“Don’t get me started,” she complained, feeling that jagged, thorny anger from this morning rise up in her once again. “He’s just so, so—!” She groaned in frustration, holding out her hand for the next item, brow furrowed as she loaded the dishwasher with unnecessary fervor. 

“I just wish he’d _actually_ talk to me.” She confessed, a bitter taste of rage and sorrow in her mouth.

“About what?”

Both Aidoneus and Kore jumped at the sudden voice behind them, the sound of clanging dishes and splashing water only adding to the shock of it all. They both turned around to see the source of the sound and came face to face with Persephone and Macaria. 

Macaria, a white towel wrapped around her, was propped on her mother’s hip, big lilac eyes staring at the pair in front of her, gnawing on her fingers with her seemingly unfaltering smile. Persephone, however, was hardly as pleasant, her long hair pulled up into a messy bun with strands escaping down the back of her neck, and the bottom of her cotton dress was seemingly soaked as she stood in front of the two grimacing with reluctant defeat. 

“I need Kore’s help with bathing Mac, it’s too hard for me to kneel on the floor.” Her words were a concession, but once again, the tone in her voice implied this was a command for Kore to follow, and well— She wasn’t about to start arguing with Persephone. Kore simply nodded, and folded the dish towel she was using neatly on the counter, giving Aidoneus one more wistful look before turning back around to see that Persephone had already left. _Guess she isn’t the type to wait on people, huh?_ She thought with a sigh, before padding out of the kitchen to try and find where the queen had gone.

“Hurry up.” Persephone’s acerbic tone floated back to Kore from somewhere ahead of her. She winced, and did as she was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos always appreciated! 💙


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Alpha and Mimi! 💙
> 
> Warning: There is a very brief, vague, and not at all graphic mention to Apollo's actions in comic, as well some non-specific descriptions about childbirth trauma and severe postpartum depression. Just letting you guys know!

It didn’t take long for Kore to spot the silhouette of Persephone retreating with Macaria back down the hallway to the guest rooms and master bedroom, but a quick bout of speed walking was more than enough to bring Kore right back on Persephone’s heels. Kore wasn’t even sure that Persephone knew she was right behind her until she started talking. “Follow me through here,” she instructed, opening the door to the bedroom she shared with Aidoneus. 

The bedroom was far bigger than anything Kore would ever pick for herself, but it was painted a moody maroon color that added a sense of intimacy to the grand space. The most luxurious bed Kore had ever seen was pushed up against the wall they apparently shared with her guest room, an ornately carved, dark brown headboard reaching towards the ceiling. It took a moment for Persephone to realize that the carvings were in fact of vines and… Pomegranates? The more she looked, the more she saw, numerous pomegranates hidden in the intricate carving of the stained wood. There was no doubt that it was beautiful, truly, it was perfectly fitting of a king and queen.

The rest of the room, however, was elegant in its simplicity. There looked to be a set of french doors that led out to a balcony in the back of the room, in front of that, in the middle of the room, there was cushy grey seating that consisted of a couch and lounge chairs, draped with white blankets and maroon pillows that made them look even more inviting. There were also two identical vanities pushed to either side of the walls, and Kore couldn’t help but laugh at the obviousness of whose was whose. 

The vanity that had to be Aidoneus’ was rather barren and neat. The only items occupying the surface were a few picture frames and what looked to be a black ceramic bowl for jewelry, a grey armchair tucked neatly into the space for it. Persephone’s however, was cluttered with what looked to be tons of makeup, pictures, _and plants._ Foliage spilled out of the pots they had been planted in, hanging off the sides of the vanity, and Kore saw that there was even ivy growing up the mirror. 

For a moment, Kore could imagine a future where her and Hades shared this room, where they spent evenings unwinding peacefully in comfortable silence, happy and _in love._ That last thought plucked at a tender chord in Kore’s heart that made her eyes burn and her lip tremble. She was so caught up in the sudden swell of emotion, that she had almost forgotten why she was even in here until she heard the sound of rushing water.

She turned to find that two double doors on the sidewall of the room were open and revealed a _massive_ bathroom. _Do they really need all of this space? No,_ she thought, with a small frown but, keeping her commentary to herself, she followed Persephone into the room. 

Walking past the two sinks and vanities right at the front of the bathroom, Kore followed the marble tile floor to where Persephone sat on a stool, Macaria now splashing around in shallow water of a gigantic tub, definitely meant to fit more than one full sized person, not to mention that the shower across from it was almost a room itself. Kore’s face reddened with the idea of what could _possibly_ happen with all that _space,_ but it was hardly the time for fantasies, especially since Persephone was talking. 

“So basically, you’re going to be my hands,” she explained, slouched over on the stool. “I need you to get on the floor so you’re able to really reach in there and scrub her down. That’s too hard on my knees and back nowadays,” she huffed, giving her bump an idle rub. Kore couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for Persephone. She couldn’t imagine ever being so uncomfortable that she couldn’t do as something as simple as kneeling on the ground, but then again, she never imagined that she would be pregnant even once, let alone three times.

Kore did as she was told, a smile coming to her face as Macaria let out a squeal of excitement, thrilled to have a companion in her soapy fun. “Hi, sweet girl,” Kore cooed, taking a handful of water, and pouring it over Macaria’s head, wetting her hair in preparation of shampoo. It had been a long time since Kore had been around a child this small, but she still had an idea of how to handle them. She remembers how all of the nymphs at Mama’s compound always gushed over new babies, a village ready to raise a new child. Kore felt a familiar sting grow behind her eyes.

Home suddenly felt a very long way away.

Before the ache of homesickness could set in, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Here,” Persephone spoke as she handed Kore two small bottles, “use these, one is a shampoo and the other is a body wash. The wash cloth on the side of the tub is good enough to scrub her down with.” Nodding, Kore followed the queen’s orders dutifully, smiling as Macaria rambled in a mix of recognizable words and incoherent babble, all the while holding up what she deemed to be very important items for Kore to inspect, like a well loved (and possibly well chewed) rubber duck. Kore could only laugh at the toddler’s antics.

“She is too sweet!” Kore commented, mostly to herself as she placed a gentle boop to the child’s nose, and found herself surprised when she heard Persephone’s voice pipe up behind her. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Persephone hummed, the first time Kore had heard her sound content in… Well, ever. Surprised by the sudden tenderness, Kore knew that she had to tread carefully if she wanted to keep Persephone in this good mood. She nodded, massaging some shampoo into Macaria’s fine hair.

“I’m sorry if I’m just forgetting, but what does her name mean again?” Kore asked innocently, a hand covering the toddler’s eyes as she rinsed the suds from her hair. Macaria seemed like a safe topic for her and Persephone, or at least it was a topic that didn’t lead to the queen deliberately ignoring her. She could hear the soft smile in Persephone’s voice as she answered.

“It means ‘blessed’.” The words were filled with a particular love that made Persephone ache for her mother even more. She swallowed the bittersweet emotion. She was long practiced at saving these things, tamping her emotions down to preserve them for another time, like the gentle but insistent press of book pages against petals.

“Did you choose it, or did your husband?” As soon as the question left her lips, Kore immediately regretted it, because once again that invisible, steel wall came crashing down between her and Persephone, any hint of a connection between the two of them firmly crushed underneath it. Persephone clicked her tongue against her teeth, the sound filled with animosity. 

“It doesn’t matter. Just hurry up and pull the plug, the water is probably cold by now.” She spoke curtly, her words back to being sharp and icy. Kore silently cursed as she drained the tub, grabbing a towel as she scooped Macaria up. She had barely stood up with the toddler in her arms when Persephone held out her arms, her expression filled with blatant irritation.

“Hand her over.” She demanded, her tone betraying her fraying patience. Kore, for the first time, openly frowned. 

“Persephone, please, you can trust me to help you—”

_"Give me my daughter."_ Persephone hissed, and Kore didn’t stop her from grabbing Macaria from her arms, and watched as she settled the toddler against her chest, tucking her head underneath her chin. After she had Macaria right where she wanted her, Persephone snapped her attention back to Kore, her eyes filled with an impatient rage that her younger self was painfully familiar with, except she had never seen herself so openly express it before.

“Follow me, we’re going to have a _talk._ ” Persephone seethed, not hesitating to turn on her heel and storm off, leaving Kore scrambling to follow behind her. Kore felt her stomach twisting with painful anxiety as she followed the fuming queen out of the bathroom and master bedroom, back down the hallway up to the winding staircase Kore had only seen earlier in the living room. It felt like a funeral procession, the slow, agonizing way they ascended the stairs, Kore following Persephone’s every step and turn until they came face to face with a hall of grand doors, Persephone opening the first one to the right.

What was revealed was a spacious, lavender colored nursery, with what looked like to be white butterflies _everywhere._ In the wall decals, on the blankets, stuffed animals, they were even carved into the crib, the structure itself just as elaborate as the headboard in the master bedroom. In the time it took Kore to realize that they were in Macaria’s room, Persephone had already placed Macaria on the changing table in the corner of the room. “Shut the door.” Persephone threw the words over her shoulder, and Kore knew she had no choice but to do so.

The door hinges let out one last wail as it shut, sealing her fate. Kore stood silent, her wild, coursing fear a stark counterpoint to the soothing surroundings of baby Macaria’s domain.

Persephone picked up her daughter, now dressed for bed, carrying her over to the rocking chair by the window and sitting down with a groan, apparently in no rush as she adjusted herself to be as comfortable as possible. Kore felt her chest close up with the anxiety that consumed her as they both stayed in silence, the only noise the creak of the rocking chair slowly moving back and forth. Persephone spoke first.

“Listen, I’m going to make this quick and concise for both of our sakes. Stay away from my husband.” Persephone stated, a crimson gleam to her piercing gaze.

Kore’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to try and rebut, but it snapped shut when Persephone held out a finger. Kore dug her nails into her palms, hating that even now she couldn’t stop herself from being bossed around, even by _herself_ . She simply allowed herself a heavy exhale through her nose, allowing herself to return Persephone’s heated stare. The queen tsked, like she was almost… _Disappointed._

“Listen, I know that you and Hades are probably arguing about some inane bullshit that is nothing but a bother to everyone that has to breathe around you, but I want to make something completely, transparently clear. My husband is _not_ yours to play house with. He has a family. He has _me._ I know that you’re too weak spined to try and fix things with Hades right now, so I’m asking you politely. Don’t play out your fantasies with Aidoneus, especially when we’re too busy trying to get you two home.” 

The venom slid off Persephone’s tongue with ease, all the while still gently rocking her daughter to sleep.

Kore’s whole body felt suffocatingly hot. With shock, anger, but most of all, _humiliation._ She was now digging her nails into her palm with such force that it was sheer luck that she hadn’t broken her own skin. She had just been scolded like a _child,_ like she was someone who didn’t know better than to not play with others’ toys without asking. _To be fair,_ the ugly voice crawled out of the recesses of her brain once more, _you teach people how to treat you, if you’re going let people boss you around, don’t be shocked when you’re treated like a_ dog.

She bit the inside of her lip. 

“Is that all?” She forced the words out from behind gritted teeth. Persephone gave her a shrug, purposely nonchalant.

“That’s all I have to say to you. Shut the door on the way out.” Persephone directed, a simple smile pulling at the edges of her lips. Kore stood there for a moment, simply staring at the queen. Then, slowly, she turned away, taking one step after another towards the door, each one feeling heavier than the last. She should just go, go back down to her bedroom and just try to ride out the next five days the best she could, like…like—

_A good dog._

Something finally broke deep with Kore, something so fragile, so _angry,_ that she couldn’t stop herself from turning back to face Persephone, red thorns twisting jaggedly through her hair, which spilled out onto her shoulders. A telltale red haze fell across the world as she clenched her fists, still raw with the pain from those crescent indents in her palm. She seethed, the next words she spoke the most harsh, the most _honest_ she had been all day, and _Gods,_ didn’t it feel good to finally say how she felt? 

“Listen, Persephone, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Aidoneus, but I know for a fact, that no matter how you piss or pout, that man is so utterly, _utterly_ in love with you that I’m sure he doesn’t give me a passing thought. But even without that, how about instead of cornering me and bossing me around because of problems _you_ made up, you stop and actually _talk_ to your husband about it!” 

Kore hadn’t realized the rising volume of her voice until the last words that left her mouth echoed back at her off the walls of the nursery, prompting a whine from a half-asleep Macaria. The vines slowly disappeared from her head, a withering sense of anger slowly being replaced with guilt as Persephone hushed her child, leaving Kore standing sheepish in front of them. She didn’t mean to lose her temper like that, she hated when she did, she just— She couldn’t _stand_ it anymore. Any more miscommunication, any more animosity. She was so viscerally sick of it, it was bad enough that Hades refused to try to work things out, but to have Persephone hate her too? She couldn’t bear it.

Persephone wasn’t looking at her, Her face was trained on a sleeping Macaria’s, more hair had fallen out of her bun and was now shielding her profile from view, leaving Kore to just watch her rock in the chair, standing like a defendant on trial with no judge to answer to. Maybe— Maybe she should go. She crossed a line. She shouldn’t have yelled at her, and especially not in front of her small child. Feeling that painful, sorrowful, _familiar_ sting in her chest, Kore once again retreated back to the door, her hand on the handle about to open—

“Macaria was supposed to die.” 

Kore froze, her breath caught in her chest as she stared at the door, eyes wide. “Wh-what?” She stuttered out, turning around to face Persephone, only to be shocked once more that not only was the queen looking up at her with no anger, no irritation, but she was also looking at her with _tears_ in her eyes. Not fallen, at least not yet, but the shine of them caught in the moonlight pouring in from the window in the room. Persephone simply nodded her head, her bottom lip slightly trembling as she moved a stray piece of hair from Macaria’s face. 

“She was born about…Three months early? We… We had just found out that she was a girl, a few weeks before, I mean… We had barely even started work on the nursery. I was home that day, and Aidoneus was at work, and then the pain started out of nowhere. Horrible, _horrible_ pain. I called Aidoneus, and right after that the bleeding started and—” She let out a shuddering sigh, closing her eyes. “Everything gets blurry around this point, but I just— I remember pain, and pushing and then— My baby was gone. Taken away from me by doctors and healers, and all Aidoneus could tell me was that she was alive when he last saw her.” 

“She was _tiny._ Eileithyia said that the fact that she was a goddess and had the help of modern medicine is what kept her alive, even though she could fit in the _palm_ of Aidoneus’ _hand_ —” Her voice broke, and finally, _finally_ , tears fell down her face, even though they were quickly wiped away. “I don’t like recalling that time. I try to just be grateful that she has exceeded anyone’s expectations, but… I wasn’t _okay_ after, in the months following. The last time I felt so hopeless was after…”

The unspoken name hung heavy in the room between the goddess of Spring and the Queen of the Underworld, their twinned expressions speaking of a single, unutterable crime.

“…I relied heavily on Aidoneus, and he stepped up, more than anyone possibly could. He took care of me, Macaria, and the twins somehow all at once, never asking for help or complaining. I have— I have a lot of _regret_ , for burdening Aidoneus with all of that. Especially seeing that just when things were starting to go back to normal, _truly_ normal, we find out _this_ one is on the way?” She referred to her bump with a bitter scoff. “So soon after what we had been through with Macaria? I was so worried that— That it would break him. That it would break _us..._ ” She trailed off, looking out the window, a quiet sigh leaving her lips.

“I guess,” she started up again, pausing to bite her lip. “I thought that maybe, seeing _you,_ the person I used to be… That the presence of you, would remind Aidoneus of a time that I wasn’t a burden to him.” She confessed, the words leaving her lips as a hushed whisper, as if that lack of volume would be all that she needed to save face. A beat of silence fell between the two women. 

“I’m sorry, but you know that’s not true at all, right?” Kore broke the quiet, brow furrowed with what was concern, and not anger, for the first time the entire night. “Aidoneus is so _obviously_ in _love_ with you to everyone around you two, there’s no question that he doesn’t see you as a burden.” Persephone could only offer a small, bitter laugh at Kore’s statement, shaking her head.

“Some of the greatest burdens _are_ love.” Persephone said to her younger self, but all Kore could bring herself to do was roll her eyes.

“I won’t say that’s not true, but that’s not at all how Aidoneus sees you, Persephone.” Kore smiled softly, as she walked over to her counterpart slowly, until finally she stood in front of her. Kore dropped into a kneeling position, smiling up at Persephone as she took her free hand. “Every single time I’ve seen Aidoneus look at you today, no matter what you said or did, he always looked _so_ in love with you. Like you were the sun and the earth and everything in between. Like you were perfect. I—” She ran a thumb over her knuckles. “I wish someone looked at me like that.”

Persephone squeezed her hand, prompting Kore to look up at her and for the first time, Kore saw herself in her double’s face. 

“Someday he will, Kore,” she whispered, and in that moment, Persephone sounded so much like her mother that Kore couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eye. She squeezed Persephone’s hand in return, letting out a sigh before standing up, and self-consciously smoothing hand down over her dress. She smiled down at Persephone, who was still rocking a sleeping Macaria.

“Are you coming downstairs?” Kore asked, not quite sure when her voice had become a whisper. Persephone shook her head, the former bun she wore now just a loose ponytail barely holding anything at all.

“No, I’m going to stay up here a little longer. I like the way the moonlight comes through this window. It might help me think of what to say to Aidoneus tomorrow.” She smiled, a real, _genuine_ smile. Kore couldn’t help but to return it in kind. 

“Alright then, I’m going to go down. I’m going to try to go to bed, since we’re already experiencing the impossible, might go ahead and take it a step further and try to get eight hours of sleep. Crazy, right?” She said brightly, once again returning to the door to try and leave the nursery. Third time’s the charm, right? Kore heard Persephone lightly chuckle under her breath, and recognized it as her own laugh.

“Try not to stay up all night, alright?” Persephone asked, but all Kore did was shrug.

“No promises,” she said, as she slipped out the door, softly closing it behind her before she retreated away from the nursery and went down the stairs. As she opened the door to her guest room, and got ready for bed with a quick shower and a brushing of her teeth, Kore found that as she climbed into her bed, and tucked herself under the sheets, that even though she was stuck fifteen years in the future, and that Hades and her still weren’t talking, _and_ that she had no idea what tomorrow could possibly bring—

With the moonlight pouring in through the window, she didn’t find it hard to sleep at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated! 💙


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you to Alpha once again! My work would be little less than adequate. without your advice and guidance. I'm in your debt forever and always! Also thank you to Mimi and Liz for always being my cheerleaders, I love y'all. 💙

Above all else, Hades liked to keep busy. 

Maybe that wasn’t so surprising, seeing that he had reluctantly taken on the crown of the Underworld, and through great toil, and he shaped the much maligned role into something that people treated with a heady mixture of respect and fear. He had worked hard to make himself into the God he was, and he was proud of that. He was a hardworking man, and that fact required stating. Especially, since in the aftermath following that horribly tense dinner, Hades was left to sit around and feel like— Well.

Like a bum. 

He had been abandoned by Kore to go help Aidoneus with the dishes, and Hades couldn’t help the bit of jealousy that grew in his chest. The emotion was as disgusting and mangled as it always was, tangling itself up around his heart as he watched Kore follow Aidoneus with such ease into the kitchen, but he knew that it was nothing but his own machinations that led to this. He had completely shut down on her earlier. Kore had come to him, honest and open, only for him to completely rebuff any of her attempts to make amends. What made the whole thing even worse is that he didn’t know  _ why _ he did it.

Maybe it was because he was still hurt that she had implied that his measures of judgement,  _ his values,  _ were outdated. Or, maybe it was because he was just too stubborn, too prideful to admit that he was wrong. Whichever inane reason it was, Hades couldn’t hold back the groan of despair that left him as he finally stood up from the empty dining room table. If he couldn’t make himself useful by cleaning up after dinner, surely he could find  _ something _ to entertain himself. 

Hades wandered out of the dining room, finding himself once again in the entryway of the home, once again greeted by the seemingly endless barrage of photos, which he pointedly ignored. Inspecting the myriad smiling faces on the walls would only serve to rub salt into the wound that was his disagreement with Kore. After turning down another corridor - just how big was this house, anyway - he found himself face to face with a set of darkly stained french doors, the frosted glass obscuring Hades’ view of whatever may lie inside the room. Hades couldn’t help but feel his curiosity be piqued by the mystery of the room before him, even though it was hardly polite to snoop through people’s houses. 

No, it was invasive. Especially since he had made such a big deal about hospitality earlier, he reflected with a grimace. But… This  _ was _ his house, after all. Even if it wasn’t quite his yet, he thought, weakly justifiying his blatant nosiness. Besides, he swore that he could see the outline of a bookcase through the cloudy glass, and what a better way to pass the time than reading? Surely, nobody would deny him the solace of a good book.

He glanced around guiltily, , only to find that the coast was completely clear. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on the dual handles of the door, allowing himself to quietly push them open into the room, eyes widening as he did so.

Now,  _ this _ was more his style.

Hades never thought he would be so relieved to see the familiar straight lines and minimalist furniture that was so reminiscent of his own home, even if it was confined to what seemed to be a study. His footfalls were light as he entered, and looming high around him were towering, inky black bookcases that scraped the ceiling. In front of what seemed to be a rather simple glass desk were two dark blue angular armchairs, positioned perfectly on complementary angles, with an ornate glass globe in between. Simple. Polished.

Familiar. 

Hades’ eyes scanned the rows of books that lay behind the desk, his feet absentmindedly bringing him closer. His gaze flicked between old and new titles, the unfamiliar ones especially out of place. He swallowed dryly as he read through the book spines, a furrow creasing his brow.  _ The Intensive History of Shade Coordination and Transport; Dignity and Decorum: The Humble Host’s Guide to  Hospitality,  _ and…  _ Divinity and Dolls: Raising Your Young Goddess.  _ Hades couldn’t help an internal groan and eye roll at that last title, the corniness of it far too saccharine for his taste. Still, he allowed himself to pull the book off the shelf and open it to the first page, where he was greeted with a pale yellow piece of stationary, tucked underneath the front fold of the dust jacket.

_ Hades, _

_ Persephone told me that she caught you at four in the morning looking for parenting books, especially for girls (though I’m sure Persephone would be a more than exceptional guide, seeing that she was once, as you know, a little girl). But, to satiate your anxiety, here is one of my personal picks. I read this before Hebe was born. I hope that it’s of some guidance to you, or at least gives you some peace of mind. _

_ You’ll be a natural, Aidoneus. _

_ All my love - always,  _ _  
_ _ Bunny _

Hades couldn’t help the way his heart clenched as he read the words on the paper, that painful burning of emotion at the back of his eyes. He couldn’t immediately pinpoint why Hera’s distinctive hand made his heart wince as badly as it did, but even more confounding, was the powerful wash of  _ relief _ that swept over him. The complicated emotion wasn’t for the feelings he once felt for Hera, but rather, he realised, the definitive closure of them with this little parchment. The end of an era that he was - _ is - _ glad to be done with. The fact that he and Hera could ever reach a stage where she would gift him  _ parenting books, _ as a friend, was such a incredible difference compared to his current life in itself, that it almost (but not quite) eclipsed the fact that he ended up with—

“Persephone and I leave you to your own devices for an hour, only for me to find you in my  _ personal  _ study unaccompanied. For someone who I know cares deeply for the rules of hospitality, it seems rather hypocritical, doesn’t it?”

Hades couldn’t help the startled _"Shit!”_ that flew from his mouth, the book falling from his hands in surprise and landing on the floor with a dull thud. He turned to find Aidoneus leaning in the doorway, arms folded with a knowing confidence across his chest, his face one of obvious cool contempt, a single brow cocked in question. Hades gulped. 

“I-I was just—” Hades’ stuttered apology quickly quieted when he saw the smug grin overtaking Aidoneus’ face, reminiscent of a cat with canary feathers stuck in its teeth. Hades felt the corners of his mouth turn downwards, and what had just a moment ago been shame quickly turned to seething. _ "Piss off”,  _ he muttered, finally crouching down to pick up the book off the floor. His embarrassment only doubled when he heard Aidoneus’ laugh come from the doorway,  _ far  _ too pleased with himself for Hades’ liking. 

“Oh, that was too good!” Aidoneus chuckled, his amusement finally waning. Hades roughly shoved the book back onto the shelf, then turned on his heel to openly scowl at his older counterpart.

“I must truly be going senile if I get my kicks from pranking houseguests,” Hades retorted, but he knew that the barb was weak. All Aidoneus gave him was a small, unapologetic shrug of the shoulders, a sharp glint in his eyes.

“I think it’s the least you deserve after making eyes at my pregnant wife,” he casually shot back. It could’ve  _ almost _ passed as a joke but for the subtle animosity laced in his words. Maybe Hades shouldn’t have dismissed that sense of shame so quickly, he thought, his face becoming hot. He opened his mouth to try and somehow salvage any sort of credibility but it quickly snapped shut when Aidoneus held up a gentling hand.

“Don’t bother, I know. But, if I may offer you an idea? Don’t flirt with my wife in front of me. It would be greatly appreciated,” he advised, clapping a hand on Hades’ shoulder with a smile, ignoring the wince the younger man gave at his vice like grip. Before Hades could get another word in, Aidoneus had already moved on.

“Now!” he started, effectively changing topics, “I told the twins that they have about thirty minutes before they have to take their baths and head to bed, but you and I have a  _ very _ important chore to take care of in that time. Follow me!” He turned around and left the room, leaving Hades to barely process his absence before scrambling after him. 

“What is this ‘important chore,’ anyway?” Hades asked, finally catching up to the older king, too impatient with the suddenness of this task to mask the annoyance in his voice. Aidoneus looked over his shoulder, and Hades saw a twinkle in his eye he hadn’t thought he was capable of anymore. 

“Trust me,” Aidoneus grinned, “You’ll like it.” With that more than vague answer, Hades followed Aidoneus through the home, past the living room, down a small corridor to what looked to be a sliding glass door, leaving Hades waiting as Aidoneus gently pushed to the side, revealing a backyard that was unlike anything Hades had seen. Well. Not quite. 

Hades found himself staring, now standing on a massive back porch with a staircase leading down to the yard. On each corner was a column, with small twinkling lights strung between them, and their pleasant glow lit the porch with a soft warmth. There were slim, blue outdoor couches with throw blankets tastefully strewn on them for comfortable seating, while the floor covered with mismatched toys, obviously a beloved play spot for the little ones. All of this was rather charming, Hades could acknowledge that, but what truly made this backyard spectacular was  _ the view. _

It was on a cliffside (solidly fenced, of course), and past that was the most dazzling view of the downtown area of the underworld. The lights across the yard twinkled against the distant hum of traffic and city life, removed far enough from the home that it wasn’t disruptive, but much more a gentle reminder of all of his work. From this distance, the dull roar of the highways and the buzzing of the city streets dwindled down into a soft sigh of approval.  _ His kingdom, _ he thought with a small smile, eyes following the skyscrapers up into the starry night, seeming so small now, from this vantage point. But, he already knew of this place. 

“You built this house on the cliff I like to go on Sunday mornings, there used to be a poplar forest I had to drive through to get to this clearing,” Hades remarked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he admired the sight. All he received in return was a chuckle from Aidoneus. 

“Well, The royal Chthonic family deserves the best view of the Underworld, don’t you think?” Aidoneus stated, and as Hades turned to reply, he was instead greeted with a bag of dog food being dumped into his arms, forcing a shocked huff from him as he tried to adjust to sudden weight. Once again, that mischievous grin grew on Aidoneus’ face. “Come on, you fill the little dogs’ bowls, and I’ll fill the big dogs’,” he commanded, now lugging his own bag of food.

Hades couldn’t help the beaming smile that sprang forth at the thought of seeing his four-legged companions. Now,  _ this _ made him feel like he was at home.

Eagerly, he followed Aidoneus to the left edge of the porch, where, to his joy, there were eight dog bowls of varying sizes, ready to be filled with dinner. Hades’ eyes scanned over the row, pleased to see that the bowls had been engraved with each of the dogs’ names. 

_ Cerberus, Big John, J.P., Mushroom, Russell, Fudge, Cordon Bleu…  _ and right in the middle of all of them,  _ Pomelia.  _ Hades couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with a bittersweet fondness for home, and with it a twinge of worry. Were his dogs okay? He had left them plenty of water, but they only had so much food poured. A part of him knew that Cerberus was a smart enough dog to figure things out for the rest of the pack, but still, it was another worry about getting home. Hades was pulled out of his thoughts, however, when Aidoneus nudged him. 

“Well, are you going to pour, or do you require a formal invitation?” the king asked, gesturing to his four full bowls. Hades couldn’t help but roll his eyes, even though he had a point. He grumbled, starting to pour kibble into the remaining bowls.

“I  _ am _ pouring, I just got sidetracked. Besides, I haven’t seen the dogs anywhere since we’ve been here. Where are they?” he asked, as he finished his work, eyes scouring the backyard, the canines in question nowhere to be found. When he turned back to Aidoneus, he found that his older counterpart was now back at the sliding door, the upper half of his body leaning into the house. Hades watched as the king placed two fingers in his mouth, and winced as Aidoneus let out a loud and sharp whistle. Suddenly, a flood of fur and slobber came running out the door and past the two men, all of the dogs hungrily chowing down on the food in their bowls.

Well,  _ almost _ all of the dogs.

Standing in front of Hades, barely aged a day in the last fifteen years, was Cerberus, staring up at Hades with his curious head tilted, giving him a look that Hades could only recognize as caution. Still, Hades couldn’t help himself from going gently down onto his knees, his cheeks hurting from how brightly he beamed. He welcomed his dog, his  _ first _ dog with open arms, but the hound stood frozen, his ears pinned down to his head in confusion. Cerberus turned to look behind him, staring at Aidoneus for answers. The king just shrugged. 

“He’s me, Cerberus. Fifteen years younger and much grumpier, but still me,” he explained, smiling a little as he crossed his arms. Before Hades could even begin to make a jab back, he was face to face with Cerberus, who, after giving him one more once over finally,  _ finally  _ gave him a big, slobbery lick in the face. Hades, at another time, would have half the mind to scold that behavior. But now? He couldn’t bring himself to care. It was all he could do to wrap his arms around Cerberus, inhaling his distinctive scent of dog and smoke, burying his fingers in the thick fur at the scruff of his neck, thrilled that even though things had seemed so different in this world, his dogs were still  _ his _ dogs.

In fact, the moment the notion entered his brain, he felt a nudge against his left arm. He turned his head to find Big John nosing her way in, just as desperate for some attention of her own. As soon as he turned to pet her, Mushroom joined the fray and attempted to climb up into his lap, while Russell was hot on  _ his _ tail. Before Hades knew it, all the dogs were piling onto him, each of them more desperate than the last for their share of affection, even Cordon Bleu bestowing Hades the right to a few pets before the pampered prince of a dog trotted off. 

As soon as they came, the dogs quickly rushed off onto the field, their last outing of the night awaiting them. Hades couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as their dogs scurried off, reminded of the world before, where he was his dogs’ whole world and they were his. Still, he wasn’t completely abandoned. As Hades stood up off the ground, he saw that Cerberus stood steadfast by his side, his ever faithful companion. But what surprised him, was the other dog that had remained with him. 

“Pomelia! Come here,” Aidoneus called from behind Hades, and the young lady of a hound rushed past to her owner’s arms, which scooped her up happily. With his beloved, but now full grown spaniel situated in his arms, Hades watched as Aidoneus went and sat himself down on the first step to the stairs down to the yard, happily petting the dog on his lap as he watched the rest of the pack play amongst themselves.  _ This must be my cue to leave, _ Hades thought, a small frown quirking down his lips, but as soon as he took a step towards the door, he heard Aidoneus’ voice pipe up. 

“Hades, would you sit with me a moment?. We should talk,” he said blithely, patting the spot beside him on the step. Hades recognised that casual indifference when he saw it - it would be a grievous error to mistake this invitation for anything other than the command that it was.

Shit.

Hades took a deep breath and couldn’t stop the helpless look he shot towards Cerberus, who gave him what Hades could only imagine was a dog’s version of a shrug, tilting his head and blinking before turning around to go and plop right down by Aidoneus.  _ Traitor,  _ Hades thought with a petulant frown. But then again, he supposed he wasn’t  _ this _ Cerberus’ owner. So, with the utmost reluctance, Hades made his way to sit down on the step beside Aidoneus, with Cerberus wedged right in between them. 

The two men sat in silence, at first. The crisp air signaling the evening in the Underworld blowing gently, making the poplar trees around them wave their leaves. Hades, at any other time, would be content to simply scratch the top of Cerberus’ head, but if he had to wait another second for this ‘talk’ to begin, he was going to lose his mind. So, he didn’t.

“You let Persephone name her ‘Pomelia’, instead of ‘Meli’, I see.” He began tentatively. Dogs were a good conversation starter, right? Dogs were  _ safe _ . Still, Aidoneus let out a chuckle, his hand still running over the course of the dog’s orange and white fur, only stopping to scratch at her neck, jangling the tags on her pink collar. 

_ "Please,” _ Aidoneus began, his tone filled with humorous disbelief. “You already knew she was going to be named Pomelia the moment Kore said it,” he stated, matter of factly. Once again, Hades felt himself fluster. 

“I did  _ not. _ In fact, I was still debating it right up until we got into this— This  _ situation,” _ Hades huffed, folding his arms in discontent. This was the exact reason he had no interest in talking to Aidoneus: he had only been here for an evening and the incessant condescension radiating off of his older self was  _ suffocating.  _ So much so that he didn’t even need to look at him to know that the king was rolling his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Hades. Although, I’m sure you know that dog names are not what I’m interested in talking about,” Aidoneus sighed, finally letting the rambunctious Pomelia climb out of his lap, the spaniel excitedly descending down the steps to go frolic out in the grass with her pack. Aidoneus smiled, leaning back on his hands with a casualness that seemed so unfamiliar to Hades that it was almost off putting.

Hades gulped, his collar of his button up suddenly tight.

“Is it about what— What happened earlier in my room with Per—” Before Hades could stutter out the question, Aidoneus was already laughing  _ again,  _ waving his hand to stop him. Hades’ face began to heat up with an infuriating mix of embarrassment and anger at, once again, seemingly being left out of some sort of inside joke Aidoneus was irritatingly aware of. Before he could indulge this insecurity anymore, Aidoneus spoke again.

“Hades, while I’m not  _ thrilled _ to see my wife flirting with any man other than me, and I was a little… Tense, before and during dinner, that’s hardly a matter of concern. I love Persephone unconditionally and I know she loves me the same. No offense, but I’m not exactly threatened by a younger, sour, more emotionally inept version of myself stealing my wife.” 

Before Hades could do anything more than gawk, Aidoneus simply moved on, his hands coming up to his head to undo his bun as he continued. “What I  _ am _ here to talk about is the fact that for some reason that you have hitherto yet to disclose, you’re treating Kore terribly over some petty feud, and it’s obviously tearing her to shreds. So, before I grill you any further, I’m asking you to explain yourself.”

And with that last word, Aidoneus’ hair was finally let go, tumbling down his neck and finally resting just past his shoulder blades, the familiar curl and length to it that Hades still remembered, even after eons of not letting it grow past his neck. 

Most of all, he remembered how heavy it was.

“What is there to explain?” he responded curtly, eyes staring pointedly out into the yard. “Me and Kore had an argument over our Shade Reform project, she decided to be inexplicably disrespectful, and we had a petty spat, which led to me spilling coffee on Hecate, which, in turn, sent us hurtling through time. That’s all.” Hades finished cooly, and in the periphery of his eye he saw Aidoneus shift.

“That’s all?” Aidoneus asked.

“Yep.” Hades replied with an audible pop of the lips on the ‘p’ sound. Aidoneus gave little reply, simply humming inscrutably. 

“So, you’re telling me, there’s nothing,  _ nothing _ that you could’ve possibly said to have upset Kore?” Aidoneus countered, that knowing tone in his voice causing Hades’ blood to boil once more. Hades could feel the tension build in him, a band pulled so tightly in him that he knew it was only a matter of moments before he snapped. He needed to calm down,  _ fast. _

“Look, if you’re going to play therapist with me, I think I deserve a smoke.” Hades replied, not able to hide the edging irritation in his voice. Still, Aidoneus remained ever so collected, hardly affected by Hades’ obviously mounting animosity as he apparated a lit cigarette into existence, offering it to Hades with ease. Hades knew he should have some shame in how eagerly he took the cigarette despite his current attempt to quit, but as he took that first puff, and felt the smoke curl into his lungs and linger there for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel his anger and anxiety recede. Even if it was just a little bit. He exhaled, pushing out animosity and insecurity along with the smoke. If only they would as readily dissipate into nothingness, he thought.

It was only when he finally had taken a few long drags that Hades realized Aidoneus had not summoned his own. Hades couldn’t help but raise a brow, and Aidoneus simply shrugged with a disarming kindness.

“I’ve given up smoking. Been clean of it for going on eight years now, actually. Still working on the liquor though, I’m afraid,” Aidoneus chuckled, and a hand came up to rub at the stubble of his face. “And you shouldn’t knock therapy, it actually works when you take the therapist’s advice.” Hades simply gave a sharp exhale of smoke through his nostrils at that, and Aidoneus clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “ _But,_ you’re avoiding the question. What did you say to Kore, to make her 'inexplicably disrespectful?’”

Hades sighed, the sound filled with defeat, even to his own ears.

“I may have…  _ implied,  _ that her opinion in shade reform didn’t matter because she was an intern,” he confessed, the guilt he had been trying to suppress bubbling back up to the surface. It was made all the worse with Aidoneus’ simple—

“Ah.”

Hades, despite his best efforts, felt the band snap.

“Are you serious?!” Hades asked, his voice the angriest it had been all evening, and he couldn’t help the look of disgust that accompanied his simmering rage. As Hades turned to face Aidoneus, he felt his anger double when he saw the absolutely nonchalant look on the king’s face, that feeling of belittlement all consuming. Here Hades was, fuming and pissing and smoking, and this man was  _ mocking _ him. He spat out the next words with a venom.

“Do you get your kicks from this? From making me feel like an  _ idiot  _ for existing? Because clearly, if that’s the case, you and I aren’t as different as you would have yourself believe,” he seethed, an unexpected aching of the heart following it, the aching that usually accompanied the telling of the most painful truths. 

It was Aidoneus’ turn to sigh. 

“No, not at all, Hades.” He conceded, the soft look in the King’s eyes somehow stoking the anger, the  _ anguish,  _ Hades felt. He dug his nails into his free palm, the other hand lifting the cigarette for a drag. 

“Then  _ why  _ are you acting like this?” He gritted his teeth against the rest of the vitriol that wanted to spew out of its own volition - the blase way that Aidoneus brushed off his ire was only exacerbating it.

“Like what?” Aidoneus asked, his brow furrowed.

“Like… Like!  _ Judgemental!”  _ Hades exclaimed, throwing down the cigarette onto the step below them, and using the heel of his shoe to stomp it out with much more force than the action required. A moment of silence passed between the two kings, heavy in the cool air of the everpresent night of the underworld. It was broken with a small whine from Cerberus, still sandwiched between them. 

Aidoneus sighed once more, giving his faithful hound a pet between the ears. 

“It’s not judgement, Hades.” He finally spoke, and his voice was soft. Hades was quick to reply.

“Then what is it?” The desperation in his own voice was painfully obvious, and he cringed to show weakness like this. 

“It’s…” Aidoneus paused, as if he was collecting his words. “It’s… Very different to remember the person you once were than it is to actually be confronted with that version of yourself again,” he concluded, his hand still gently petting Cerberus’ ears. Hades ran a hand over his face, his exhaustion with this conversation becoming heavier with each moment.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hades asked Aidoneus, looking at him rather helplessly. The smile Aidoneus gave was as gentle as the ones before, but there was a new element to them. Though, it wasn’t new at all to Hades, not really, in fact it was painfully familiar.

It was melancholic. 

“I forgot how lonely I was,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper. 

Hades felt his heart caught in his throat, unable to speak for once. Aidoneus simply looked out to the yard once more, where the dogs were slowly beginning to make their way back to the porch.

“I forgot,” Aidoneus started, “what it was like to be like you. To  _ be  _ you. How… I didn’t want to make compromises, I didn’t want to give up my beliefs, because they were all I  _ had.  _ How so much of my life was spent alone on a throne I had never asked for, nor desired, and making it work to the best of my abilities even though I was haunted by the constant lack of anything or anyone in my life. Yes, we had Hecate and Hera, but it’s not the same. It’s not the  _ companionship _ that we ached for, ever since we were born. We became so accustomed to that ache that we began to defend it, even if we didn’t mean to, even if it meant denying ourselves chances to have the one thing we  _ always  _ wanted. Denying ourselves  _ her. _ ” 

The two men sat in another moment in silence. 

“So, it’s not Judgement, Hades,” Aidoneus reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder, and for a moment the men’s eyes met, the same crimson they had always been, but Hades saw things that he hadn’t noticed before, not in his own eyes. Warmth. Happiness. 

Love.

“It’s me remembering who I was before I met the love of my life,” he finished.

Hades, feeling his face flush with a much deserved blush, averted his gaze, and when Aidoneus chuckled this time as he moved his hand from his shoulder, for the first time, Hades heard the kind mirth behind it. But perhaps, it had always been there. Hades sighed.

“I really wish that I hadn’t put out that cigarette now,” he lamented, and finally, the tension passed.

“You could always summon a new one yourself, y’know,” Aidoneus offered, but Hades just shook his head.

“No, because then you’d  _ really _ be judging me,” he retorted, the first time he had allowed himself to joke with his older counterpart this entire night, the clouds moving just in time to allow the moon to illuminate the mischievous glint that came to Aidoneus’ eye.

“Well, Judgement is our job, isn’t it?” Aidoneus teased, a waggle to his eyebrows.

And finally, Hades allowed himself one, sharp laugh.

“Oh, piss off.”

And as the evening turned to night, and the ever busy Underworld became little more but a gentle hum, Hades found that nothing quite warmed the cool air like the sound of kind laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to point out that Aidoneus and Poseidon get along swimmingly now. (pardon the pun.)
> 
> Kudos and comments always, always appreciated! 💙


	9. An Apology, Explanation, and What's to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Author's Note.

Hi everyone, 

As we all know, my fanfiction, “first day of this life”, has not been updated since August of this year. I think I should explain why that is the case.

To put it bluntly, I have outgrown FDOTL. I began writing this fanfiction in January with my then abuser, yes, abuser as I will address her for the first time publicly, and it was a major strain in our then friendship. This fic became heavily entangled in the arguments and disputes we would have, even though it was my original concept, it quickly became a symbol of everything our toxic relationship entailed. Everything down to the characterizations of the main cast is influenced by that time in my life. 

And I have moved on from it. 

I have moved away from the anger, spite, and hurt I felt during that time, and the spite that drove me to finish this fic has left me too. 

I’m happy. I have made truly wonderful new friends since June when I ended my friendship with FDOTL’s former co-author and I have found that my perspective of Lore Olympus and even my own beloved fankids has changed drastically for what I believe to be the better. Please, do not worry, Zagreus, Melinoë, Macaria, and Plutus (The baby that was to be born in the final chapters of the story) still live very vibrant and rich lives in my head, they’re just… Different.

I’m different. Better.

So I believe to finally complete my healing and transformation, FDOTL must be left behind in the process. I will answer questions about the plot and characters below in the comments but I will try to be vague, for I hope maybe one day I can restart the project with a new lens and grasp on the story and characters. 

I do want to thank each and every one of you for reading my story, and I hope that despite this disappointment you enjoy my work to come. 

Because, please, believe me.

There is more to come. 

  
  


With all my love,

K.G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To keep up with me, follow me at @_thatsrough on twitter! 💙


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